


The Other Side of Never

by Acantha_Echo



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Control, Established Relationship, M/M, Mentions of past child abuse, Misunderstandings, Past and Present, Patton and Logan are doing their best, Romance, Thomas is just tired, Uncle Sleep, fae, fae parents, giving up names, human kid, its a tricky thing, non-binary Logan Sanders, nothing detailed, pacts with fae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 56,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21838051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acantha_Echo/pseuds/Acantha_Echo
Summary: Fourteen years ago Patton claimed a human child as his own son. Since then, with the help of his love Logan, he has raised Virgil. Rounding out the family is ‘Uncle’ Sleep and Virgil’s friend, Thomas.Everything seems perfect, but when Virgil meets his first ever human, he finds himself tempted by a world he had long since given up on.Will he be able to resist the siren song of Roman? Or will he turn his back on everything he knew and risk it all for the sake of a different kind of love?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 62
Kudos: 164
Collections: Sanders Sides Secret Santa 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phandom_Puppet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phandom_Puppet/gifts).



> Hello, hello! Welcome to my secret santa fic. This was written for panicat-thefandoms over on Tumblr. They asked for Thomas hanging out with the sides, Romantic Prinxiey and Virgil being anxious. I did my best. 
> 
> Logan is non-binary in this story and if I have slipped up and accidentally used the wrong pronoun for them, please, please let me know so I can change it. It is not my intention to make a thing of what they are in this story. There is also one ‘deliberate’ accidental misgendering in the final chapter, please be aware. 
> 
> There is a couple of brief refrences to past child abuse in this story, it is never touched upon in any detail but it is there. 
> 
> Thank you so much to my wonderful beta @i-will-physically-fight-you who has had to put up with a lot making this work.

_Fourteen Years Previously..._

Don’t go into the woods. Don’t approach the circle. Don’t speak with the fae for they will take you.

These words were whispered over every charm before they were fastened around necks. They were muttered into beer glasses that were steadily emptied over and over again. They were cried out during anger, stopping most in their tracks and turning rage to fear. They were chanted over every child’s cradle, repeated over and over again in the hope that the sleeping babe would hear the words and let them wrap around their hearts and souls. Let the words become bands of iron that could ward off danger as truly as the metal itself. 

Patton thought such things foolish. They could try and instill those words in everyone as much as they liked. They could chant their little sayings over and over again but he knew better. He had seen so many generations of humans spring up in the little village down below the forest. Sometimes he would climb onto the tallest branch of his favorite tree in order to watch them go about their tiny lives. 

It amused him, to watch the humans from a safe distance and imagine what they thought of the world around them. All so important. All so convinced that they mattered and that they had found a way to survive.

They saw _nothing_. 

The beauty of the world was lost on them. Oh, they were interesting - if a little simple - in their own ways. Such a short life span. They rushed through the world endlessly aware of that fact. It made them shine so brightly. Like his favorite stars in the sky. But they rushed so much. They didn’t see their own worth, they didn’t see the beauty of a moment stretched out like spider thread. They could plant trees and build families but they never lived long enough to actually see the fruit of their efforts.

And they never learned their lesson. 

There would always be humans curious enough to go wandering in the woods, who would be brave enough to ignore those words. Ones who were driven to seek the things they heard and saw in dreams. There would always be ones who yearned to be free from this life. And there would always be ones greedy enough to become prey. 

Not that Patton was hunting mortals tonight. It was the moon that called to him, and all the radiant stars that made him glide into his circle, hands lifting up towards towards the luminous orb. She was truly beautiful tonight. She begged him to give in to the call, to listen to the night and forget all about the humans for now. 

He wanted to dance in the moonlight. To find the sweetest dewdrop and the brightest star. He wanted to skip through the trees, feeling branch and bark under his fingers, each one as familiar as a dear friend.

Soon his love would come to him. Logan could never resist the stars either. They were drawn to them in quite a different way to Patton. They saw patterns in the stars, they saw a greater design that Patton didn’t. Whereas Patton could dance to the unidentified rhythms of the night, his love needed the stories, the structure that came with it.

It was just one of the many things that Patton loved about them. He could spend whole mortal lifetimes listening to Logan talk about the stars, reminding him of their history. Patton had heard the stories before, many times. But he rarely remembered them - not even the one about the fae and the cat, not in detail. Even if he had, he would still have been spellbound by the way Logan spoke, the magic they brought to each word. 

“Starlight, star bright...” Patton tilted his head upwards as he murmured the words under his breath, a soft smile on his lips. 

He wanted to touch a star. 

Harsh breathing and the sound of footsteps thudding broke his concentration and his pleasant thoughts. Patton knew that sound. Only one animal made such an ungainly sound. A human. Here? At this time of night? Who dared to disturb his revelry? If they came looking for favour, they would be disappointed. No matter what they might promise. Patton felt a snarl curl onto lips that only seconds ago had been relaxed and delighted by the world. He didn’t _want_ to deal with humans! He wanted the stars and his love. Nothing more. 

The child stumbled into his circle as if it wasn’t even there. 

A child? Patton hadn’t been expecting that somehow. Humans never ceased to surprise him and finding one of their young running wild in the forest during the night was certainly a surprise. The annoyed expression faded and no matter what, Patton could never be angry at a _child_. He wasn’t a monster.

The little one looked behind him as he ran, his little legs moving faster than his body. It was perhaps inevitable, the fall. With his attention behind him, his body no longer under his control. If the bits of dirt on his face and leaves in his hair were any hint, this wasn’t the first time he had fallen during his mad dash through the night.

Patton could have no doubt saved him but he was still trying to process the fact that there was a child out here, his mind rushing through all the possibilities that could have this outcome. Which meant he missed the tip, the child upright one moment and on the floor the next. Patton should have been able to catch him.

It made him feel slow and stupid, things that Patton hated. He wasn’t either of them! He knew he wasn’t smart in the same way that his Logan was smart. He didn’t care about learning beyond the way that it made Logan’s eyes light up as they found something new to learn or explain. But that didn’t make him stupid. He just saw things in a different way. 

He saw the child - and the child saw him, neck bending back as he met his gaze. Large brown eyes stared up at him, the tiny frame trembling. From a mixture of cold and fear, Patton bracing himself for the terror filled screams that were bound to come. The little boy was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. 

“You’re so pretty,” the child gasped, gaze shifting into something more akin to awe than terror.

Out of the mouth of babes. 

Patton felt a shiver run through him at that easy compliment, at the unintended weight that came behind it. He couldn’t help but step a little closer, almost gliding over the grass as he examined his new guest. The boy was within his circle, and that meant that he was within his world. Almost in his power. Enough for Patton to want to learn more about this one. 

Here was a sweet child. Such a sweet little morsel, so delicate and full of promise. He hadn’t learnt all the dull habits of humans yet. Such a treat shouldn’t be gripped by fear, his face lined with filthy salt from where tears had long since dried. Such a boy shouldn’t be prey and yet alone in the dark, what else could he become? If Patton let him leave this circle, someone else might find him. Someone who the boy didn’t find pretty, who wasn’t freely offered childish worship as though it was something easy.

He didn’t play with children himself. They were too fragile. Too sweet, too close to innocent. Too pure and helpless. Few did. They didn’t see the sport in it. There was always the exception however, and no doubt one of those would be on the prowl tonight. It was just the sort of luck humans tended to have.

Gracefully, Patton crouched down in front of him, offering a hand to help the child up. To his surprise, the little one took it almost without any hesitation. Curiouser and curiouser. He must have heard the stories. He must know what Patton was, if not all the details. And yet he let the fae lift him to his feet, he let himself be pulled closer. Patton could almost wrap his arms around the little one now, could hide him away from the gaze of even his mistress moon. Almost. Not quite. There was still much he wanted to learn, much he didn’t understand.

Like his love, he needed to understand, although the questions he asked were often very different. 

“You’re scared,” Patton told him, instead of asking. He could taste in the air around them. A bitterness that soured the delight of the night, that took away from the joy of the compliment. 

Slowly, the little boy nodded, his bottom lip wobbling a little. That should have been the end of it. So many were scared of him. So many didn’t admit it and he could find some pride in the brave honesty of this little one. He should laugh now. For the gift of those words he should offer him safe passage back to the human lands, to where he could be safe and then Patton could return to his dancing, safe in the knowledge that his debt had been repaid. Nothing was truly free. 

The pieces didn’t snap into place. The puzzle was incomplete. Patton didn’t really like that. Human’s were simple and quite often boring because of that. Sometimes, when they wanted something from him, they would occasionally show a spark of promise but that magic was all too quickly drained from them. 

This little one didn’t seem to want anything from him. He was afraid, like so many that had come into his ring before him. Like so many that would come after. But he was captivating in a way that nobody before had been. He didn’t slip from thought as easily as any other human. Patton couldn’t help but speak once more, tone finally slipping into a question. 

“But not of me?”

The child shook his head and Patton found himself believing that simple gesture. Honesty. Such a rare virtue in humans. Yet the boy had shown it with every word and action. He was giving Patton so much and so Patton had to give something back in turn. 

“Of what then?”

“Papa.” 

Patton drew in a sharp, unneeded breath. There was much in the world that could scare a child. So much that deserved to be feared and so much more that didn’t. 

But a father? Never a father. He could feel his anger rising, as swift and as sharp as an unexpected morning frost. A father was meant to protect, to keep safe. His own had been kind, had taught him everything that Patton had needed to know to survive. He had shown him wonders that the young fae had never dreamed possible. Almost all his memories were good ones, and he had certainly never thought to be afraid of him. But this little one was scared - was more than scared, was terrified - of his own father, his flesh and blood. It made him want to tear apart the human world with his bear hands. Everytime he thought he understood how depraved humans could be, they sunk to a new low. It was infuriating. 

With great difficulty, Patton swallowed that rage down. He didn’t want to be another thing that scared the child. Instead, he found himself wanting to be the opposite, to be safe for the child, Patton crouching so he was more level with him. 

“What does your Papa do to make you afraid?”

The child made a noise that in all of Patton’s many years, he had never heard before. It reminded him of dying animals in the forest, the death rattle and gurgle as life fled their form. It was more than that though, it was the sound of fear, of a rabbit being chased by a wolf. Of the desperate wail of a mother bird who had returned to find her nest empty. 

It was a sound of pain. 

True pain, that stretched beyond anything any mortal should know, let alone one so tiny. A different question then. A different way to get what he wanted. 

“What does he say to you little star?” 

“Papa says I’m a chang... changeling. That I’m... fae. Like you? But you’re so pretty, you look like an angel. Not like me. I can’t be a changer... changeling,” the little boy said, stumbling a little over the word. It was hard for Patton to judge the age of humans - they would be like this, newborn one second and bent double by the whims of time the next. No matter how often Logan would remind him that humans aged, he was always surprised to find his friends old or gone. The boy was young, very young, that much Patton knew.

He was pretty sure, as well, that no human child this age should know the word changeling. None should have it thrown against them like a curse. None should be driven out into the cold and dark because of that word. 

Patton tilted his head to the side in a brisk, motion that resembled a bird as he studied the little boy in front of him anew. 

The child was thin and pale. Too thin, too pale, admittedly, to be comfortably human. He walked on legs that should have folded up under him many more times than they had. It was a wonder that he was able to move at all on such little sticks. His eyes were large, wide orbs that were sunken into his face, giving him an even more unnatural look than he might already have.

Human though. Human all the way down to his heart which Patton could hear beating away in his ribs, to the blood that made him want to hiss and recoil for all the iron that ran through it. 

Thin blood now that he smelt it properly. Too thin to be healthy. 

Thin, thin, the morsal was too thin. Too wounded already. Too old a soul to be housed in such a young body. Patton didn’t have to ask any more questions to know that this one had seen far too much of the world. He knew too much pain, too much agony. The weight of those memories had to be crushing and no wonder he looked so pale and ill. 

He would not make good sport. 

That was not what Patton wanted from this child. The knowledge was not altogether surprising - he had always known he wouldn’t play with the boy - but what was a surprise was the surge of warmth that accominded his thoughts of the little human. He didn’t want to hurt him. Rather, he wanted to protect him, to keep him safe. Not for whatever deal he could make with the boy, this was something much bigger than that. 

In the distance, he heard the heavy tread of another human. A low, muttered cursing drifted through the air towards Patton. Something crude and cruel, a voice he could only just hear over the beating of his companions human heart. The man was still a distance away, but he was getting closer with every step, no doubt following the trail left behind by the runaway boy.

The child could hear it too. His whole body froze, eyes wide as his breathing began to pick up. The terror of the boy returned full force, the moment broken. 

Sharp little ears. They would have to be, in order to survive the life that Patton imagined he had suffered so far. 

If he was going to leave, he should do it now. Abandon the child to the destiny that had been laid out for him. Leave him to his father - the brute approaching had to be that, although he didn’t deserve that title. The boy was mortal and should be left in the mortal world. He wasn’t sport and thus he had no place in Patton’s world. 

Pale blue eyes flickered down to watch the little one. He still wasn’t crying, wasn’t so much as whimpering from the fear that was coursing through his veins. Almost as though he had been trained to not make a sound, no matter what. The boy wasn’t like any human Patton had meet. He was so much better. How could he leave him to such a cruel fate?

No. Patton could not - would not - leave this one behind.

“Give me your name little one and I promise you will never be beaten again. You’ll be safe and fed with me... only give your name to me,” Patton crooned, hand lifting to brush through the child’s dirty hair, cuddling him close. 

He would have this one for his own. 

_Present Day..._

Summer was not really a season that Virgil enjoyed. Everything was far too bright, the days were far too long. It was too hot most of the time to wear his hoodie - not that it ever stopped him putting it on. It just meant that he suffered a lot more. He would wear the black and purple patchwork and simply feel as though he was melting. Better to suffer that than give up the safety that his most treasured possession gave him. 

There were bugs everywhere in the summer. Wasps and flies swarmed in the air. Mosquitoes were another annoyance. They’d invariably find their way to him while he was sleeping. Biting him and leaving him itchy and uncomfortable in the morning. Virgil tried to follow his parents teachings. There was value in every living creature and they all had a right to live. Just because he might not like them personally, didn’t mean he should try and swat them.

It wasn’t their fault that they needed to suck his blood in order to survive. Virgil was pretty sure his parents had used the bugs as a metaphor for their own existence. As if he could ever blame them for what fae had done over the course of history. As if he could ever blame them for what they had done. He knew it was more than just ‘be nice to everything’ for one very simple reason.

Dad was scared of spiders.

Virgil had once seen him accidentally send a whole colony of them out of the forest. He had no idea where they had gone. Only that one second they had stumbled upon a near army of spiders and their babies - and the next there wasn’t even grass there, let alone living creatures. Just the trunks of trees and a lot of gaps. The forest adapted of course. The forest always did. Dad felt guilty, he had spent hours apologizing afterwards, but Virgil couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t even tried to bring the spiders back. 

A shame, because Virgil rather liked them. At least they didn’t try and eat him like so many other things. And they were always willing to try and stop the mosquitoes. Spiders moved in such an interesting way and Virgil would have loved the chance to get to know more about them. He wasn’t going to try though, because he wasn’t willing to put his dad through that.

So he suffered the bites, the flies. The unholy heat and the sun that rarely seemed to set. He missed the moon. He missed seeing her in all her glory, not just when she shared the sky with the sun or the few hours after dark when he was still awake. 

There were only two saving graces about summer.

One was that there was a lot of pleasure to be had from napping in a sunbeam with Thomas - his best friend loved it even more than he did. Thomas was almost the direct opposite of Virgil in that respect. He craved the sun. He needed it, it was literally his lifeblood. The sun gave him energy in a way that Virgil couldn’t help but be slightly jealous. However he felt more than slightly guilty during the winter. For there was so little sun and Thomas was always much more subdued because of it. 

Lying curled up next to him, dozing lazily in a warm summer evening, Virgil could almost see the appeal. It certainly made the summer bareable at least. 

The other - which was new this year - was that he got to watch his human dance around in even fewer clothes than normal. Once, he had even started taking his shirt off, the heat too much for him to bear. Thomas had dragged them away before Virgil could properly see his chest. It was probably for the best - he always felt more than a little weird about the fact he kept coming back to the clearing in order to watch the human, always without doing anything that could alert him that someone else was there. 

His books all told him that he was doing the wrong thing. That what Virgil had to do was be bold and introduce himself. If he wanted more than one friend - and maybe actually a friend that he picked for himself - then he needed to do more than lurk in the undergrowth and watch the intruder. The books weren’t wrong... but they also weren’t right. 

Virgil was never going to actually speak to him. Humans were dangerous. They were the enemy, for all that he was one. If the human knew Virgil was in the woods, there was no telling what he might do. There would probably be violence - Virgil knew his practical experience with other members of his species was pretty much non existent - but his father had told him enough horror stories to be very afraid of the outcome.

From what his father said, it often amazed Virgil that either of them could bring themselves to love him. Not to mention all the harm that his Uncle had suffered at the hands of a human. Virgil was beyond grateful that they did of course - he just didn’t understand how or why. His father was amazing. How they looked at him and saw something worthy was just too much for Virgil to ever understand. His dad was just as awesome. Maybe even more so, since it had been Dad who had picked him in the first place. Dad who had somehow looked beyond the sins of Virgil’s whole race and seen something to save and cherish. 

It was far too much to hope that the human would be able to do the same back. 

His parents were fae, the boy would never understand that. As much as Virgil liked to think that he could keep the peace between them, he was much more of a realistic than that. 

The human singer wouldn’t stand a chance if either Dad or Father got a hold of him. 

It was safer for everyone if Virgil just kept quiet about the boy who seemed to be a similar age to him, who came and sang near the circle. The one that captivated him, who made him ignore Thomas’ frowns. His friend wasn’t a fan of the boy. Honestly, Virgil couldn’t really blame him. It was humans who would cut down trees, who would kill those that Thomas knew and loved. It was lucky that the tree spirit’s true form was hidden deep within the forest, where no human would ever go near it. 

Virgil couldn’t bear it if something happened to Thomas because of his fascination with this remnant of his original world. 

It would be even safer if Virgil stayed away. If he turned his back and never came back again. Virgil wasn’t nearly that strong though and it couldn’t hurt to just... look, occasionally? To enjoy sitting and listening to the sounds of his human as he sang. The boy was so talented. So wonderful and it was a shame that he came all the way out here to practice. Nobody else could appreciate it out here. Virigl was doing him a favour by listening, by silently encouraging him to keep practising. 

He was also more than a little pretty to look at. Virgil had always had a weakness for beauty, for things which shone. Both on the outside and in. He had seen Thomas’ beauty through all the versions of his friend. From the tree he had come from, all the way to the red eyed boy that he spent most of his waking hours with. 

All of this was beside the point, because even though it was summer, Virgil wasn’t planning to go and visit him today. There was no way to check if his stranger would ever be there or not and he didn’t have the energy to make the walk. 

Right now, he was far too comfortable, head rested on Thomas’ chest. They lounged together, the sun slowly moving across them as it wound its meandering way across the sky. They were cushioned on the softest moss, so springy and comfortable that Virgil felt as though he could quite happily dooze here for the rest of his life. 

“What you thinking about Vee?” Thomas’ voice was as warm as the sun. It had a drowsy weight to it that made Virgil sigh happily and want to sink deeper into the comfort of a half sleep. There was just something about the other boy that relaxed him completely. It was a rare enough situation and thus it was treasured even more. Even with his parents, there were moments when Virgil wasn’t completely at ease.

It was hard to be at ease all the time with your parents. More so when they were near immortal beings who would never hurt _him_ \- but could ruin the life of anyone else they chose. Anyone they felt they had to in order to do their own version of protecting him. It wouldn’t be the first time they made that kind of terrible mistake and Virgil refused to be the excuse for their actions. Which meant he had to be slightly on his toes. Which meant he couldn’t tell them about the human boy in the woods. 

Thomas was still waiting for an answer and it was only fair that he gave him an answer of sorts. 

“Summer,” Virgil replied honestly. Or as honest as anyone raised by fae could be. Summer was such a wide topic and it did cover what he had been thinking about. He had first seen the boy in spring and had thought he was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. It had been nothing compared to how he looked in summer. Virgil could only imagine how the human would look in autumn, with all the beautiful colours illuminating him. 

He slanted his gaze upwards meeting Thomas’ own. The tree spirit had a smile on his face. Small and soft, but there all the same. Thomas lifted a hand, idly catching a lock of Virgil’s hair, twisting it loosely around and around. 

“Just summer eh? Not a Summer Butterfly singing their little heart out?” 

Butterfly had always been Thomas’ nickname for the human they had found. A bright beautiful Butterfly who had no idea what he had stumbled into. One that would shimmer for a brief moment before passing out of thought and memory. Virgil knew that Thomas wanted him to forget about the human, to move on. But how could he when the human kept coming back and singing time after time? Virgil didn’t want to forget about him. 

His human. The boy. Or, as Virgil had started to call him in his head, Siren. Virgil had to come up with some nickname of his own, something he could use in his own mind. Names were power and some part of him didn’t want to learn the true name of the boy. But Siren would do in its place. His Siren, who captivated him without even realising it. His Siren who Virgil would listen to for hours on end if he could. 

Out loud however, Virgil stuck with Butterfly. Letting Thomas know he considered the human to be like a siren was just too embarrassing to handle. 

And as much as he trusted Thomas, there was no way of knowing exactly where the line was. How far could he go before Thomas felt that there was no choice but to tell either his dad or his father that there was a human? Virgil had never interacted with his Siren, and had no plans to, but he knew that his parents wouldn’t care about that. All they would see was a human and thus danger. He couldn’t blame them for that, but at the same time he couldn’t believe that Siren would ever hurt him. Especially when he would never see him.

It was only fair that Virgil protect him back in turn. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. So long as they never outright asked him if he had seen another human (he had never met Siren, so he could honestly say he had never met one) then there was no harm in just keeping silent about Siren’s existence. 

“How could you tell?” Virgil asked quietly, not even bothering to deny it. This was _Thomas_ \- his best friend. He could never do anything like that to his best friend. 

“You were blushing little bud,” Thomas teased, fingers threading deeper into his hair. It made Virgil want to almost purr, his whole body feel heavier and heavier with every passing second. Why did they even have to have this conversation? Why wouldn’t they just lie here and enjoy one of the few things about summer that Virgil could actually stand? 

“You always blush when you think about him. Or when we listen to him sing. He sings like an angel, I’ll give him that, but our Butterfly is still dangerous. You know nothing can happen betwe-”

Virgil pulled away from the touch, abruptly cutting it off and denying them both that comfort. The motion cut off Thomas’ sentence mid word, but Virgil couldn’t just lie there and let him say those words. It was the sort of harsh reality that Virgil tried to spend his time avoiding. He didn’t understand what his future held, he couldn’t even begin to imagine where he would be in a year or two.

Assuming he would be anywhere. There was a reason his parents had picked him, and maybe someday they would actually explain what it was.

Until then, he had the warmth of their love, Thomas’ friendship and the singing that he swore could enchant birds. It was all he needed, a cosy cocoon of things that allowed him to not think about anything else. Thomas however, seemed determined to break through that protective layer and force him to face all sorts of things he didn’t want to. Virgil shook his head, gaze fixed firmly on the forest floor. It stung to think these thoughts, let alone say them.

“I know Thomas, I know. I just... it’s fun to pretend. I’m never going to talk to him, don’t worry. What’s the harm in just... in just imagining it?”

It wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation and Virgil knew it wouldn’t be the last. As much as he wished it would be. Thomas cared and that alone ensured that he would return to this topic time and time again. Like a scar that never fully healed but instead remained red and puckered, irritating constantly. 

“What do you want to do now?” Virgil asked, shifting the conversation away from Siren and back on safer ground. He couldn’t bear to have this same argument again, not right now. Not when it would just lead to them going around and around in circles. Never getting anywhere but more frustrated with each other. They could both see the others point but equally, they both still thought the other was wrong. 

After a moment, Thomas sighed, pushing himself into a half upright position. It was enough to let Virgil know that Thomas was going to drop the subject. For now at least. 

“Your father was talking about a family meal. They should be home by now,” he offered softly. 

Virgil brightened at that. It was always a brilliant day when his parents were both home. It was also rarer than he suspected any of them would have liked. Strange, to think that they were all but immortal and yet still worried about missing little moments. They must have had countless meals together before Virgil was born, but it never seemed to be enough. It warmed his heart to know that they wanted to spend as much time as they could with him, that he was never an inconvenience. 

Not to mention, they were both brilliant cooks. Father had said something about making Virgil’s favorite mushroom soup the next time they had a family meal, his mouth watering slightly at the thought. 

It wasn’t enough to completely banish the thoughts of Siren or the fight they had just avoided having from his mind, but it was a start. Virgil leaned against Thomas, dipping his head to rest against the others shoulder. After another moment of stillness, the tree spirit moved, hand lifting to play with Virgil’s hair once more, silently accepting the apology that Virgil’s touch had offered. A truce was reached and they could slip back into their familiar roles. It always made his heart ache, when they fought. Virgil truly loved Thomas and he hated the fact that there wasn’t a way to make everyone happy.

Not without making himself unhappy of course. Was that the answer? If he stopped going to see Siren, it would upset him greatly. Virgil had come to depend on the singing in recent months. It gave him something to look forward to, a window he could use to look at another world. Just because he didn’t want to actually enter the world didn’t mean he never wanted to see it. A lot of the songs were unfamiliar ones and Virgil would have enjoyed it for that alone - he always loved to learn something new.

But if he stopped doing that, then Thomas would be happy. His parents didn’t know about Siren. If he stopped, they would never have to and that would surely make them happy as well. Wasn’t it worth it for that alone? What was his happiness compared to that? Especially when everything Thomas had suffered and lost was added into the mix. 

“Stop it little bud,” Thomas mumbled. The words created tiny little puffs of air, hot breath against Virgil’s hair that made him shiver slightly. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s going to be okay. I might not agree with your choice, but I respect it and I love you. Unless he does something, we’re fine. I wouldn’t let Butterfly hurt you.” 

Thomas always knew the right thing to say or do. Virgil wished he could be half as good a friend back. What little he had done to try and help Thomas felt like nothing compared to the countless gifts the red eyes boy gave to him without thought or hesitation. 

“I know. Love you Thomas,” Virgil replied softly. Such a dangerous thing, love. It made everyone act so oddly. It pushed people far out of their comfort zones into doing things they would never ordinarily do. Like sleep in the sun.

“Love you too. Now come on, we better get back before they come looking. I don’t think I could stand your dad’s patented disappointed stare again. He gave me that look yesterday, just because I wanted to nap in the sun all day. It wouldn’t be the first time I did that and it certainly won’t be the last.”

\---

“Star, there you are.” 

His dad always looked ridiculously happy to see him. Virgil didn’t understand it. He had seen him only this morning and yet somehow he still managed to look as though it had been lifetimes since he had last laid eyes on him. The nickname was old and treasured, the habit of avoiding using true names too deeply ingrained for Dad to call him anything else. 

Dad always liked to say Virgil was his star. He saw him and made his wish. A wish that Virgil had granted for him. There was no way that their first meeting had gone that smoothly. Overall, Virgil was grateful that he had been too young to really remember what happened that night. There was no doubt in his mind that it hadn’t been an easy meeting. No doubt either that he had paid far more than he could remember in order to become their son. 

Occasionally however, Virgil couldn’t help but wish he did know more. The few memories he had of that night were vague, shadowy things. More akin to a dream than any kind of reality. He certainly didn’t recall being anyone's star. 

“It’s a full moon tonight. You know what that means kiddo.” Dad reached out to ruffle his hair as he spoke, the pale blue fae grinning brightly. So many would no doubt see something dangerous in either the motion or the smile. It was sharp, capable of cutting you to shreds. It could also protect. Virgil had long ago learned to see the value in finding different angles to view things from. His dad meant well and really, that was the important thing to focus on.

Not the teeth that sometimes seemed to stretch all the way down his throat, a mouth that could open wide and swallow him whole.

Best to focus on what he knew in his heart. To think about how much Dad loved him. And that hand that was now softly ruffling his hair. Virgil didn’t even bother trying to dodge it. No matter where he went, his dad would always be there and would always manage to predict where Virgil was going to try and go in order to catch him. Dad could always catch him. 

It was embarrassing, it was a sign of familiarity - and Virgil wouldn’t give it up for the world. He wouldn’t give any part of his life up really. Not even for the promise of his Siren. The human might be pretty in all the best ways but he was still a stranger and unknown. He wasn’t his parents and he couldn’t even begin to compare to the family that Virgil had within the trees. 

“Dancing!” Virgil exclaimed eagerly, eyes shining at the thought of it. It had only been a month since the last full moon and yet it felt like an eternity.

Virgil loved the full moon nights. They were, in his opinion, the best thing about the forest. Not counting his family of course. Or after that, his Siren. He couldn’t wait until he was old enough to actually be allowed to stay up for the full night and see everything it had to offer. To see all the magic. 

If only he knew how old ‘old enough’ actually was. He was eighteen and a half - well, roughly. His dad had guessed how old he had been when he had found him, before picking that day as his birthday. They had dutifully celebrated it as that day ever since. It meant Virgil had no clue as to his exact age, just as they didn’t.

All Dad knew for sure was that he apparently still wasn’t ready for the whole full moon celebration. He didn’t get to say goodbye to her as she sunk below the horizon. He didn’t get to dance until his feet felt as though they might bleed, he didn’t get to let his blood sing as deeply as he wished. 

Right now however, they always sent him to bed shortly after midnight. It was long enough to dance, to see the moon. To weave and twist, following the beat of his own heart. During the full moon, it was impossible to be anxious, to worry about anything. During the full moon, he allowed himself to get lost in the magic that filled his life. 

His parents always slept late after a full moon. Virgil was sure that he would too, if he was up until after dawn. Strange, that no matter how excited he felt, or how much he wanted to stay up even after being sent to his room, how he would always fall asleep so quickly. The full moon night was the night he wanted to see the most. Yet it was the one night a month when he would fall asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

Father slept later than Dad. Father didn’t let themselves go in the same way Dad did. They kept a tighter hold of themselves during the month, and as a result, they ended up much wilder during the full moon. Still themselves but somehow... more. 

The afternoon after he would return with their favourite berries. He and Dad would bake them into a pie, would tempt Father back into their world with the scent of freshly baked fruit goods. Until then however, there would be nothing to do but wander. 

And before that - there was the dance. There were moments to treasure and adore. There was the meal still to come. There was his father stood by the table, lips pressed into a thin smile that spoke of warmth and love. It might be more subdued than his dad’s displays, but that little smile told Virgil everything.

Father loved him, and they showed it in so many tiny ways. Virgil settled at the table, unable to hide his own smile as a steaming bowl of soup was carefully placed in front of him. 

Really, there was nothing else he could ever want from life compared to this. 

_Two Years Previously..._

“Here we are my Star!”

“Daaaad, stop.” Despite the drawn out whine that was the first word, Virgil didn’t exactly feel put out by the nickname. Dad had used it for so long now that it felt natural to him. It was more than just a nickname, it was part of him. Dangerous, he knew, to think such thoughts. If he accepted a name like that too deeply, it would be imbued with even more power. The last thing Virgil wanted was yet another name to hide in his heart. Another name that could only be said when they were sure they were alone. 

But he had standards to maintain. He couldn’t let them know how much he enjoyed that nickname and the memories it brought. Virgil was edgy. He was cool - okay, he really wasn’t. He had read enough books to know he was not the hero in any of them. Still, Virgil had to have a couple of things that were his own. Things that were not directly connected to his parents, that showed him to be his own person. Honestly, Virgil wasn’t really sure it was working. Did he get points for trying? What even were points? 

He really wished there was someone he knew about his own age, that he could talk to about these sorts of things. His dads were awesome and all - they were the best. Sometimes Virgil worried his heart might burst from how much he actually loved them. Still, there were some things that you just couldn’t talk about to your parents. 

“Sorry kiddo,” Dad replied, ruffling Virgil’s hair as he spoke. Expertly, he moved his hand to follow Virgil’s abortive attempt to escape the touch. He seemed to know where Virgil was going to move before he did.

Like Virgil, his words didn’t match his tone. There was no way his dad was sorry for what he had said. Then again, did Virgil actually want him to be sorry? He didn’t actually _want_ his dad to stop using the nickname. It would hurt so much to never hear that nickname again. 

It was all so very confusing. Like most things in his life. 

“You should have done this when I first mentioned it, not waited until it was nearly too late.” The grumpy voice came out of nowhere, a voice that was not either of his parents. A voice that could only belong to one fae and one fae only. Virgil felt a grin break over his face as he spun on his heel to look behind them. The smile grew as he realised he had been right and the voice was exactly who he had thought it was.

“Uncle Sleep!” 

“Hey short life,” His uncle replied fondly. He hadn’t changed. Of course he hadn’t, he was fae. Not like Virgil, who was changing everyday it felt like. Puberty was just the worse. It had only been six months since he had last seen Sleep. It felt like longer, because Virgil had shot up since then, had grown so much and he had so much to tell his uncle. Sleep was the closest thing to a friend that Virgil had. Even then, it couldn’t really count because Sleep was still family. Even if neither actually knew the name of the other. 

Virgil knew the real names of his father and dad. It ranked as one of the best days ever in his life, when they had sat him down and nervously given him that power. The rush that had gone through him was nothing to do with what he could make his dads do. In a detached fashion, Virgil knew he could order them to do anything he wanted now, just as they could make him do anything they wanted. Not just because they were his parents but because they owned him, body and soul. They had his name and he had made a deal with them for better and worse.

Exactly what the deal had been, was something Virgil was a little fuzzy about. He didn’t like to ask Dad. He always got such a sad expression on his face whenever Virgil tried to bring up his life before them. Virgil just didn’t have the heart to press them any further. Not when he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know. What little he could remember of the time before them was a cold, painful set of memories. Being owned by fae who honestly seemed to love him was so much better than that. Even if sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder what their end goal was. Surely they would get bored of him one day? Or would they just wait until he died? What was the point in investing as much as they had in him, in owning him, if he would just spend the rest of his life in these woods? 

It wasn’t about ownership. It was about the fact they had willingly given him their names without him even asking.

The trust there still took his breath away.

Uncle Sleep hadn’t told him his true name. There had been a haunted look in his eyes the only time Virgil had seriously brought it up, a flash of pain that was so deep it made his breath catch in his throat. The moment had passed before he could even properly process it, and it was only later when he was lying in bed, that Virgil had worked out exactly what those expressions had meant. Uncle Sleep was such a strong, brave fae. He laughed in the face of danger, he teased and moved and nothing ever seemed to touch it. 

It was a shock to realise that he was scared of anything. 

He didn’t need his father to tell him that Uncle Sleep had paid the price of giving his name away once upon a time. Virgil wanted to wrap Sleep up in a huge hug, the sort that his dad had taught him. The one that never failed to make Virgil feel like the safest boy in the world. Nothing could ever touch or hurt him when his dad was hugging him. That feeling would quite often last the whole day. 

There was no way to know if his own hugs would have anywhere near the same power, not without actually testing it. He didn’t feel brave enough to actually test it. What if it went wrong, if he did it wrong? What if his Uncle didn’t want a hug? What if he took offense and stopped being Virgil’s friend because of it? 

Not to mention, Virgil hadn’t shared his real name either. His parents had taught him well. Sometimes, it was a struggle, because he would look at the other fae and feel such a wave of guilt. Was it his fault that Uncle Sleep hadn’t been honest? Was he waiting for Virgil to take the first step, to prove to him there was nothing to fear? 

Virgil wanted to tell him, he did. He wanted to be brave and strong. There was still that little nugget of doubt though. The one that fed off all the ‘what ifs’ in his mind. The one that whispered that no matter who he was, he was still a fae and you should never give your name to a fae. 

Sleep wouldn’t hurt him. Not his _Uncle_. No matter how many times Virgil told himself that though, he still hesitated from actually giving up his name. 

“Present for you,” Sleep called out, lifting his hand to show something small and shiny. Exactly the sort of thing to attract a fae in fact. Virgil might be human through and through, but he had picked up enough from his parents to share many traits. A love of something pretty was one of them. It was purple - of course it was purple, he knew exactly what his nephew loved.

“Freely given?” Virgil asked. He made sure to keep his hands down by his sides as he asked even though they were itching to reach out and take the gift. It was pretty. It called to him. The fae flashed him a smile like quicksilver, bright and deadly. It was a routine they had danced countless times before. One that he hoped they would dance many more times to come - his father had confessed to him recently that Sleep rarely came to this realm anymore. And how much it pleased them now, to see him interact more with the world. 

They had been afraid that after the... incident, that Sleep would content himself with only the briefest visits to the human world. That he would spend all his time hiding away in his fae home instead. It was Virgil who had changed things, they said. Virgil couldn’t help but preen a little at that, clinging so hopefully to the idea that he might be actually helping someone back.

“Freely given,” he agreed. With that, Virgil lifted his own hands, fumbling awkwardly as he struggled to not drop the tossed object. He wasn’t any good at catching things. 

Upon closer inspection the shiny purple object turned out to be a shiny purple studded bracelet on a thick black cord. Virgil examined it closely, looking for any clues as to what it was - there was no way it was _just_ a bracelet. Nothing was ever as it seemed with a fae. It looked awesome but there was no way he was putting on something from any fae without knowing more - his father would have a fit. Even if it came from Sleep. 

“It’ll help you move about unseen. And before you ask, nope, it doesn’t work on your fam, so don’t even think about it,” Sleep explained, before taking a few steps forward and draping himself all over Virgil’s father, arms around his shoulder. 

“Anyway, don’t mind me hon, I just came to make sure your dads actually did what they said they were going to do. I know what they are like, it’s oooh Sleep, we will totally remember to do that, what do you mean you suggested it years ago? It was last week surely? Or last month at most...” 

The impersonation of his dad was eerily accurate. Virgil stifled a giggle with his hand as he tried not to meet anyone’s gaze. 

“That reminds me, what is going on? Mention what?” he asked, once he had managed to swallow down the amusement as best he could. 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. It was perhaps fanciful of Virgil, but he swore that the temperature seemed to physically drop a few degrees. Silence descended upon them, and even the birds stopped their singing. 

Now it was the turn of the fae to not want to meet his eyes.

“Dad?” Virgil tried to swallow down the rising anxiety that wanted to swamp him. Was this something bad? Was this the end? Surely it couldn’t be the end already. They loved him. He loved them. What had he done wrong to make them do, whatever this was?

“Pick a tree son,” Dad told him after what felt like an eternity. He waved an arm around as he spoke, pointing to the many trees that were scattered around. That. Wasn’t what he had expected any of them to say.

“I... what?” Over the course of his life, Virgil had grown used to any amount of odd requests from his dads. They were fae, it was what they did. He had sold himself to them at too young an age to really remember much of human life and how things worked. But there were some things ingrained within him, some actions and reactions that he had to believe were human through and through. Such as rarely understanding a lot of what they wanted. 

“Pick a tree, any tree. But don’t rush it! You have to find the right one. Feel the tree, find the one that is yours. Pick the right one, the sooner the better, but also don’t pick the first one. Unless of course, the first one is the right one, but even then you should probably try other trees too. In order to know that the first one was the right one or the wrong one.” 

His dad was rambling now. It was something so familiar that it made Virgil want to smile. Well. Almost want to smile. Virgil still didn’t get it and he couldn’t shake the sudden fear that this was something bad, not after that reaction to what had felt like an innocent question. His father took a step forward, one hand lifting to rest on his dad’s shoulder, the touch silencing him.

“What your dad is trying to say is we would like you to wander this grove and get a... sense of the trees within it. Touch them as we taught you, with respect and honour. And tell us when you have selected a favorite.” 

His other dad’s words didn’t exactly clear things up. Father had a habit of doing that. They would explain the task without ever going into any detail about the meaning. Virgil could tell by their expressions that there was no point in trying to push the matter. His father was wearing their best emotionless mask, without a hint as to what or why. His dad on the other hand was showing almost too much emotion. He seemed to vibrate on the spot, excitement and nerves in equal measure. 

Uncle Sleep merely made a shooing motion towards the trees when he looked in his direction. 

They clearly had something up their sleeves. Dad would of course laugh and wave his sleeves joyfully about if he was foolish enough to say such a thing out loud and point out that of course there was - his arms!

That wasn’t what Virgil meant and his dad would know that. But he’d still say it. Then again, they always had something up their sleeves. They were Fae. Virgil loved them dearly, but he knew what they were. Just as he was human. There was nothing else for it but to do what they asked and hope it would all make sense in time.

Virgil wasn’t really sure how long he wandered through the trees, murmuring a greeting as he brushed his hand over the bark of the trunk. He passed from one to another, not really sure what he was looking for but hoping that whatever it was, he would find it. There was no way that he wanted to disappoint his parents. 

Hand rested against the trunk of a Rowan tree. Thick vines coiled around it in what he hoped was a cooperative partnership and not the second plant trying to throttle the life out of the tree. Warmth spread through his fingers at the touch. Virgil could almost _hear_ a whispered hello of greeting back. 

“This is it,” Virgil whispered, staring up at the tree with new found respect. 

“Excellent Vee, excellent. You’ve done so well. Now, look at me?” His father was right behind him as Virgil turning without hesitation in order to do just that, a rush of pride at the praise. It didn’t even occur to him to wonder why he had used that nickname instead of the more common Star.

The world spun and Virgil blinked. 

The sun had moved between motions, so now it was low in the sky, flooding the area with its rich, dying rays. It took him a few moments to notice all the changes, the shifted shadows, the way his hands and arms were cold as if he had been standing outside for hours on end. When he did put it all together, Virgil couldn’t help the sharp little intake of breath.

His parents had put him under their control. It wasn’t the first time they did it and they always claimed to have his best interests at heart. But it always hurt, every time. To know they had stolen away a piece of his life. To know that he could have done and said anything while in that state without any memory of it. 

Then again, they had every right to do that. They were both his parents and his masters. His time was theirs to do with as they pleased. 

That didn’t stop the hurt. Or the anger. Dad had promised they would do that more sparingly from now on. Or at least, that they would try and ask him before doing it. From behind him, he could hear movement, the soft tones of his parents as they talked to each other. What had they done? More to the point, what had he done? Surely, Virgil had a right to know what he missed? He spun on his heel, letting his emotions guide him.

Anger died at the sight of another boy standing beside them. He looked about the same age as Virgil with brown hair that fell into his eyes in a manner reminiscent of his own. Virgil could almost believe that this was another human boy spirited away by the fae. He wasn’t human though. For a start, his eyes were berry red, the rich colour catching his attention when the boy tried to push some hair away from his eyes. The sight of them should have been scary, but there was a warmth about them that inexplicably calmed Virgil’s racing heart. Humans didn’t have red eyes. From what he understood, they had green, blue, brown or purple ones. A shame when red looked so pretty. 

“I want you to meet Thomas,” Dad said excitedly, as though nothing wrong had happened. As if they hadn’t taken his afternoon. A conversation for later. Right now, he was still struggling to work out what was going on and who this new person was. Surely his dad was aware of how much he actually struggled with new people? And now he was tossing this person at him?

“Thomas?” 

“The name we agreed on. He’s the spirit of the tree you picked. We talked to him and he’s going to stay for a while. We thought you could do with some company, a friend so to speak.”

“So you picked out a friend for me?” That wasn’t even the most pathetic thing that had happened to him, but it was pretty high up there. Not that Virgil had many opportunities to make friends. He hadn’t even seen an actual human, not in the flesh. There were only animals and fae to talk to. And now, apparently, a tree spirit. 

“No, you picked. You felt the connection. We just asked Thomas to stay for a while.” 

“It’s very good to meet you Star.” Thomas spoke for the first time, voice quiet. Virgil normally didn’t believe anything people said. Normally because said people were fae and you could never take them just at their word. He found himself wanting to believe the spirit though. 

Thomas offered a hand. His smile was as warm as everything else out about him. Despite the many misgivings Virgil had about this whole thing, he couldn’t deny the idea of having a friend was pretty cool. Especially one that seemed to actually want to spend time with him. His dad’s looked hopeful whereas... his uncle looked almost shocked. Maybe he had just never met a tree spirit before - Virgil hadn't. Weirder and weirder. 

Virgil breathed out and then reached out, clasping the hand to shake it in greeting. 

Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

_Present Day..._

The sun was already bright and high in the sky the next day, by the time Virgil set off, Thomas beside him. The two chatted as they moved through the forest, stopping every now and then to collect a few berries from the various bushes dotted around. Virgil never liked taking too many from one plant. Even though he was always careful to thank them for their gifts, it still felt a little too much like stealing to take every fruit from one bush.

It didn’t help that he was acutely aware of what he had stolen from the forest. What he couldn’t give back no matter how much he wanted to. It might not have been his intention, but intentions didn’t matter compared to action. The action he had taken, while unwitting, had still led to theft. 

If he brought it up however, Thomas would try to downplay the impact of his actions. They argued about two things and two things only - and only yesterday they had nearly fought about Siren. Virgil wasn’t ready to have another disagreement with Thomas, and so he swallowed down those thoughts as best he could. Deep into his heart, where not even his best friend could see them. It was better that way.

Ruthlessly, Virgil forced his attention back on the matter at hand. And only the matter at hand. Nothing else mattered right now, but collecting the fruit. Both of his parents were still fast asleep, no doubt utterly worn out by whatever they did in the early hours of the morning.

It was fine. It gave Virgil more time to do this, more time to get everything ready. Perhaps he could fetch some of the nettles that his dad loved to dry and have as tea. The jar they were kept in had looked pretty empty the last time Virgil had gone to make him a cup. It only seemed right that he fetch some of those too and put them out to dry so that they would be ready by the time Dad needed them. 

Such thoughts might be mundane but they were exactly what he needed right now. They were small and perfect. No weight on his shoulders, no worrying about this or that. Just simple tasks, easy to complete. And there was always the hope that Thomas and he could have another little nap. Maybe later they could even go and visit the grove that his friend came from.

There was also the hope that he might catch a glimpse of his Siren. It wasn’t too surprising to find out that their wandering had taken them close to his dad’s fairy circle. The best bush for his father’s berries was there of course. Virgil had a suspicion that they grew there on purpose, that something about the love Dad felt for Father was enough to encourage them to grow in the first place. And that the love they both shared meant that the berries were bigger and juicier there than anywhere else. 

Love was so powerful. And his parents even more so.

If anyone could make a bush spring to life where it hadn’t been before, it would be one of them. And he could imagine only too easily, how his dad would have seen his father's fondness for this particular berry. Then created the plant there as an excuse for them to come and visit more often.

The two of them were more similar than Virgil sometimes cared to admit. He would have done exactly the same if he had that sort of power. And wasn’t he doing something similar anyway? Creeping back like a forest mouse, time after time. Listening for that song and using it as an excuse.

The voice was there again today. Virgil heard the singing before they even came close to the clearing. It carried through the air like the sweetest honey. His heart skipped a beat as the words became sharper, closer. Virgil froze midstep, as the more unpleasant realities of his Siren being there finally came to his thoughts. 

He wouldn’t be able to collect the berries he needed if the human was there. Not to mention, stepping closer would upset Thomas and how could he do that? Bangs fell over his eyes as he considered the problem. His heart was still pounding away in his chest, a frantic drum beat that made it next to impossible to think. At least Virgil didn’t have to see the pained look that would undoubtedly be on Thomas’ face as he realised how tempted Virgil was. 

“Hey.” 

A single word and yet it effortlessly cut through all the drama that was currently swirling around Virgil’s mind. Thomas’ hand reached out, brushing aside the bangs which doubled as a shield against the world. There was no anger or hurt in those rich red eyes. Of course there wouldn’t be, because Thomas was too good of a friend to ever hold Virgil’s weakness against him. Instead, there was just understanding and care shining in his eyes.

It made Virgil feel like an even worst piece of dirt than he did already.

“Go on,” Thomas told him, shaking his head slightly. Lips curled into a faint smile as his hand moved lower, taking the basket of berries and leaves from Virgil’s hands. “You and I both know what you want. Just don’t be too long okay? We have to get the nettles drying before your dad wakes up.”

“Okay, Thomas. Thanks.” Virgil had thought it before and would no doubt do again, but he really didn’t deserve his friend. Honestly, he didn’t deserve his parents or his Siren. Everything he had read and knew about fae told him that it was always a mistake to make a deal with them. It would always come back to hurt you in the end. 

Father had always been brutally honest about that. They had worried that other fae might come into the forest, that Virgil might somehow slip up. His uncle proved that point and while their intentions had never been malicious, Virgil had still been left alone with a fae. Looking back, it amazed Virgil that he hadn’t been more worried about the fact. It was amazing what the arrogance of youth could do. Or the overwhelming feeling of safety parents could inspire, even when they perhaps shouldn’t.

Dad was so willfully blind. It was sweet almost, how naive he could be. Especially considering his age and knowledge. Especially considering he was the one who owned Virgil. Father was much more of a realist and Virgil took after him. 

Happy endings belonged in stories. Occasionally they could happen of course, but that was because statistically, good had to happen. His parents were a perfect example of that and if Virgil could already see a happy ending, then the chances of his own got much smaller. Which was... not okay. But at least they could be happy. And at least Virgil could get some kind of dark satisfaction from knowing he was right to not believe in happy endings. Until then, Virgil was stuck waiting for his own choices to come back to hurt him, for the rug to somehow be pulled out from under his feet.

It wouldn’t be his parents who did it, of that much Virgil was sure. It wouldn’t be his uncle either. Or Thomas. That pretty much ruled out anyone that Virgil actually knew. It didn’t shake his conviction that sooner or later, he would have to pay for selling his body and soul to the fae. Still worth it.

Right now, this wasn’t about fae. This was about Thomas and how unworthy Virgil actually was. Maybe that was part of his payment, part of his suffering. A cruel trick which was the sort of thing a vicious fae could do. Give him all the support he could ever want, and use it to prove how terrible Virgil was. How he didn’t deserve it but would still have it, would continue to suffer. To be the cause of other people’s suffering. 

“Stop over thinking it and go on,” Thomas urged again and oh yes. The Siren was still singing, tempting him away from what he was meant to be doing. 

Just a look. He was just going to look. There was no harm in just going to take a _look_ , surely. 

A shaky smile was all the answer Virgil felt capable of giving as he slowly turned and started to creep through the trees. The air around him felt charged, hair standing on end. Or was it his own paranoia that was making him feel that? There was nothing different about this day, nothing new that he hadn’t done time and time before.

Yet somehow it felt different. Even before he reached his human it felt different. Virgil lifted his arm, fingers curling tightly around the purple studded bracelet that was coiled around his left wrist. It was a solid, comforting weight, a promise that he wasn’t alone. It was fae which meant it was magic, that he could blend more easily into the shadows and slip around unseen. Whenever he clutched it tightly, there was no way that any human, no matter how talented, could ever see him.

Still, Virgil found himself flinching a little when he finally slid around the treeline that marked the edge of the clearing. For he found the strange human only a mere few feet away. He stared directly into the forest, almost glaring and Virgil’s heart started to scream at a whole new tempo. Siren could see him, he knew he was being watched, and he was mad about the fact. All the little fantasies and daydreams he had built up in his mind were about to come crashing down. He closed his eyes, whole body tense as he waited for shouts and violence.

None came.

Cautiously, Virgil cracked an eye back open, peering up and out towards Siren. The boy just stood still there, in the same angry and hurt pose as before. Wait. Those familiar brown eyes were angled a little to the right and above him. Siren wasn’t looking at him. Of course he wasn’t looking at him, he couldn’t see him. Shadow and magic saw to that. Virgil was just overreacting, as he always did.

Although perhaps, he wasn’t the only one that was overreacting.

Siren’s chest heaved as he stood there, legs apart, head thrown back. Virgil could feel his eyes widened in alarm as he took in the whole scene. Before, he had been too distracted by the mere fact that Siren was singing to actually take in any of the details consciously. Now though, it was clear why he had felt so ill at ease. Everything about this situation was wrong. In tiny little ways true, but just because it was small, didn’t make it alright to ignore. 

Siren was closer than he normally was. The singing wasn’t nearly as fluid as normal. For the first time, Virgil was able to hear great wheezing breaths of air sucked harshly in by the human. Siren had never had a problem with controlling his breathing before. Siren had never looked so angry and broken before. 

With an almost snarl like sound, Siren finally spun on his heel, stomping towards the other side of the clearing. He started to pace up and down, almost punching the air with his hands as he sang. Although that didn’t really describe what was coming out of Siren’s mouth. It had devolved into something that sounded more like screams than anything else.

The uneasy knot of worry in Virgil’s stomach started to grow in weight. 

There was something breathtaking about Siren in this moment. The sight of a man clearly caught in the grip of some emotional turmoil and suffering as a result shouldn’t be as beautiful as this was and yet the raw agony which radiated out was just that. Tears streamed down his face now, as he lost more and more control. It made the knot in Virgil’s stomach ache, tendrils of darkness wrapping themselves around his heart and squeezing. 

It didn’t matter how strangely beautiful Siren looked, he was in pain and that was all Virgil should have focused on. What sort of person was he, that he could be distracted, even if only for a moment, by that? 

Words built up in tempo, reaching a climax that made Virgil’s breath catch in his throat. He was torn between worry and a strange sense of fear. As if he had climbed to the top of the highest tree in the forest in the middle of a storm, exposing himself to all the elements. Siren was howling now, Virgil watched transfixed, caught in place. This was so... real. It was something he had never experienced before, something he had never seen. This was something deeper than anything he had read in his books. 

Finally, just when Virgil felt as though he couldn’t take another second of it, Siren stopped. His whole body sagged a little, as though all the air was draining out of him. Virgil just hoped that this rage was being drained away too and whatever it was that had hurt him was no longer weighing quite so hard. Virgil wished there was something he could do to help him. 

Beautiful or not, he would give almost anything to make sure that he never saw his Siren like that again. He wanted to protect him from the sort of things which brought him that kind of pain. What did Virgil know of things connected to the human world? If it was an animal in pain or a tree that needed a branch carefully removed because it was half hanging off and causing pain - well, those were matters of the forest. Those were things Virgil could help with. 

He didn’t know the world of metal and machinery. He didn’t understand farming or houses where you weren’t connected to nature. Books were no substitute for the real thing. Books had always been enough. Until now, that is, crouched a few feet away from his Siren, his insides hurting for reasons Virgil couldn’t quite grasp. 

“Pull it together,” Siren muttered. Tone was still angry but there was a resigned air to it as well, as he seemed to start to accept whatever it was that had upset him so badly. Fingers pressed against his eyes. Even from this distance however, Virgil could see the glisten of tears slip down his face. 

“Pull it together already!” Words were hissed, a sharp, sudden burst of sound as Siren strengthened his body and drew in a deep breath of air. Virgil stared, unable to look away. The way in which his Siren could shift his whole mind and body never ceased to amaze him. It was obvious that Siren was still angry. It was equally obvious that he had decided not to let himself feel that anymore. The boy smiled, and Virgil could almost believe that the smile was real, it was that good.

Shoulders dropped, the whole body slipping into a more relaxed position. If Virgil hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it possible. The angry boy from minutes ago was gone. In his place stood someone who was humming a soft and happy song, arms lifted into a strange, imaginary embrace. 

There was some form of magic afoot here.

Something else he didn’t understand. Humans didn’t have magic, did they? Father would have surely said if that was the case.

Siren started no longer remained still. He was moving now, hips swaying to the hums. He was... dancing. Virgil had seen plenty of dancing before of course, but this was the first time he had witnessed someone doing a two person dance all by themselves. A dance that was taking him dangerously close to his dad’s circle. A dance that Siren was apparently doing with his eyes closed, unheeding of the danger below his feet.

Virgil moved without thinking it through. All he could focus on was that footwork that brought the human closer and closer to the circle. The moment he passed over that threshold, he would be in Virgil’s dad’s power. More than that, the moment he passed over that, he would be drawn into this world with no easy way out. Dad would learn that there had been a human hanging around. 

It wasn’t as though Virgil was ashamed of his little secret. Every little bit of information he learned about Siren just proved his theory that he had found a human that wasn’t evil. Dad wouldn’t understand that though. Dad seemed to have an almost obsessive desire to protect Virgil from what he called the dangers of the human world. It was connected to the night he had claimed Virgil, that the boy was sure of, but he didn’t know exactly why. Just that with the exception of his kiddo, Dad had never met a worthy human.

There was also that desire to keep _something_ from his dad, to know that there was a thing in his life which was his and only his. Thomas might know that Siren existed, but he didn’t know any real details. He didn’t understand that Siren was Virgil’s. He didn’t get that this boy was someone that Virgil needed to look after.

He collided with a warm body, the two spinning away from the circle in a surprisingly graceful twirl. Hands lifted to try and support himself, automatically finding Siren’s own, slipping into the hold. Anything to keep them moving, to get them further away from the danger that was his dad’s circle. It wasn’t until Siren made a noise of surprise that the true weight of what he had done came into focus. Virgil had left the safety of the trees. He quite literally thrown himself at the human and there was no chance that the boy hadn’t noticed _this_ , or that he had helpfully kept his eyes shut. 

Trembling slightly, Virgil lifted his head. Eyes blown wide as he stared into the face of the human he secretly spied on for months now. 

The boy looked right back - directly, unmistakably, into his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

_Fourteen Years Previously..._

In the end, the man’s punishment had been far swifter than he deserved. Patton dragged it out as much as he dared, of course. He made him scream and experience as many layers of hell as he could. There was still Virgil to think of. His sweet new son. This was for him. This vengeance was for all the pain he had felt but at the same time Patton wanted this to be done. So that he could focus on Virgil and give him all the hugs that he deserved. 

And many more besides. 

The desire to be a dad won out over the desire to make him hurt. Patton let the limp and empty shell that had once been a living mortal drop carelessly to the ground. He would clean that up later. First, he had himself to clean. Blood vanished from his clothes and skin as he turned gracefully on his heel to look for Virgil. Only to find they were no longer alone. 

“Love!” Patton’s face broke into a bright smile at the sight of Logan. He had been so caught up in his own actions that he hadn’t even noticed the taller fae arriving. That just proved that Virgil was something special and long lasting because there was so little that could distract him from Logan. Indeed, he couldn’t actually think of anything before this moment that had made him so focused he hadn’t even noticed his arrival. 

Not even that really cute deer they had met many midsummers ago. And that had been the sweetest animal he had ever seen.

Thoughts of the deer and his love, of his child and the moon, kept Patton distracted for a moment longer. It meant he took a couple of smiling seconds to realise that Virgil was no longer looking at him. The smile faded a little from his face as he took in the body language. It was the sort that he had seen many times before but never from Virgil. 

“My star?” Patton whispered, reaching out for the little boy. Virgil wasn’t supposed to be scared anymore. He really wasn’t supposed to be scared of Patton, who was his new family, his new life.

Virgil flinched. He flinched away from Patton, away from the deal, from his dad. He flinched and burrowed deeper into Logan’s embrace as though trying to get away from Patton. It made something rise in his throat, a chocking, gasping, desperate thing. It felt as though his feelings were trying to physically claw themselves out of him and take form. They weren’t all good feelings either. There was anger, hurt, betrayal mixed in with confusion. And the love that he felt.

Because under it all - even under the excitement of something new, there was love. It was deep and sudden. The sort of love he felt for Logan but slightly different somehow. It wasn’t expected or looked for but Patton knew enough about himself to accept it. Even as Virgil’s shoulders shook from repressed tears, still glued against Logan. 

“Virgil? What’s wrong?” Patton pushed down the vague feelings of guilt that came with his question, with forcing Virgil to talk about it. He needed to know. This was all still so very new to him. If he was going to be the right kind of dad then he had to understand the mistake he had made this time so that he never made it again. He crouched down so that he was level with the two of them, offering Virgil a comforting smile. Pointless since he couldn’t see it. When his son eventually looked at him, he wanted to make sure he didn’t see anything scary. 

“I didn’t want you to hurt him,” Virgil hiccuped, words strained and spoken with great difficulty. Part of that was probably because he was still pressed against Logan and the words had been spoken into the shimming fabric of his clothes. 

Patton paused. This was where he was supposed to say that it had been Virgil’s fault. He should backtrack and explain the deal, that Virgil had nobody to blame but himself. It had been Virgil who had made the deal and being a little boy didn’t excuse him from that. But this was Virgil. This was his shooting star. Who already looked as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and Patton didn’t want to layer any more on that.

“I’m... sorry kiddo,” Patton said at last. “That was my choice and I guess I made the wrong one. I promise, I won’t... I won’t do anything like that in front of you ever again.”

Logan drew in a sharp breath, their mouth opening, presumably to point out that it hadn’t been Patton’s choice. A deal was a deal. It was the basis of their power. It was the reason that so many mortal stories spoke of them as tricksters, as creatures not to be trusted. Because they held to their deals. They forced the mortals and themselves to follow through on the terms. It wasn’t their fault if the human wasn’t always as detailed and as clear as they could have been about the specifics of what they wanted. 

They still got it. Virgil got to be free of any further pain from his father. He got a whole new life. Patton’s eyes darted upwards, a silent plea in them for Logan to stay quiet, to let him give Virgil this. After everything that had happened, it wasn’t so much to just pretend. Just once. Lying was wrong. Lying was very, very wrong but this wasn’t lying. Not like how humans lied. It wasn’t a real lie. 

It had been Patton’s fault really. He had forgotten how tiny Virgil really was, how young he was even by mortal standards. He didn’t understand the weight and power of his own words. He hadn’t known what he was doing and when it came to children, Patton should have made sure that he was completely clear. 

Some part of Patton had even taken advantage of that. He had known that Virgil didn’t realise understand that he was being claimed. That his whole life was going to change after this night. Patton had justified it by telling himself that Virgil’s life was going to change for the better after the deal. He wanted the little boy to make it so badly that he had deliberately been vague when he should have been sharp. That was all his fault. Not Virgil’s. 

That didn’t excuse the fact that he had stolen him from his old life without him knowing. Or that he had no intention of giving Virgil up, even if the little boy wanted to go back to the humans. It was too late for that, Patton was far too attached. Virgil was his no matter what. He was going to love and keep him. 

“You really promise?”

Virgil had no reason to trust his promises. He had no reason to trust anyone’s promise. Behind them, was the cooling form of his old father, a physical reminder that his last person of trust had betrayed him time and time again. Patton couldn’t imagine a situation where that man had actually kept his word. He couldn’t even keep the simple vow that all parents make - consciously or not - when they see their child for the first time. That urge and promise to love and protect them. If he didn’t keep that, then nothing he said or did would have been worth trusting.

Despite all of that, Virgil was still staring at him in hope. As though he so badly wanted to believe Patton. It gave the fae hope in turn, hoping that he hadn’t messed this up beyond fixing. That he could keep instead of drag the boy to his new home. 

“I do. Want to come here and give your dad a hug?”

Virgil slowly unpeeled himself from Logan. Those beautiful brown were still wary. The war going on within them was easy to see. His sweet son torn two ways. It was obvious that this choice was hurting him and Patton wanted so badly to just step in and take the choice away from him. To make it better, to make the pain go away. He just wasn’t sure if Virgil would ever forgive himself if he did. 

Thankfully, Patton didn’t have to make that choice. The little boy at last made up his mind as he flung himself into the fae’s arms, hugging him as tightly as his thin frame would allow. Patton instantly scooped him up into a hug, rocking him slightly and mumbling sweet nonsense into his ear. Anything to keep him calm and hopefully turn his mind away from the image of his dead father. 

Virgil seemed to curl into him a little, cuddling close and settling over his chest. He was warm and perfect but the heat that spread through Patton wasn’t a physical kind. It was love and every deeply held emotion he possessed. The child was perfect. 

The child was his. 

Patton hummed softly, words fading into gentle noise as he threaded his fingers through Virgil’s hair. The boy was so light in his arms. He needed to eat and soon, Patton’s mind busily turning over ideas of what would be best for a human child. He needed to be fattened up for his own health but at the same time, Patton couldn’t rush this. Too much rich food would make him ill and that was something he couldn’t risk. All of that was later. Right now he was just enjoying holding him in his arms and gently soothing him to sleep.

It felt like his first success as a parent when Virgil’s head finally rocked to the side, his eyes closed. Asleep at last. It was yet another expression of trust on Virgil’s part, that he could sleep in his arms. He should really find a bed for the boy. Tuck him somewhere safe and warm before going to look for food but Patton couldn’t quite bring himself to leave Virgil just yet. He wanted to stare down at him for a little longer first, to gaze at those features and commit every little detail to memory. 

“Sunlight, what is your game?” Logan’s question was perhaps not too surprising, but he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear anything outside of the little bubble that he had built around himself, one of safety and warmth. 

Patton frowned a little, gaze refocusing on the love of his life. Of course they would think it was a game. At the same time though, Patton couldn’t help feeling a pang of hurt. Yes, he played. They all played. But this was Logan, this was his love. They should know Patton better than that, they should know that he would never do such a thing to a child. 

“No game Lo. Not this time. Virgil needs me and I plan to be a father for him. My son.” 

“He’s mortal. You can’t take him home. Unless you want to keep him this way forever which would... not be right and you know it.” There was just the faintest note of worry in Logan’s voice, something you would miss if you didn’t know them that well. Patton had spent mortal lifetimes with them though and only loved them all the more with each passing sunset. He knew his Loganberry. He knew how their mind worked - even if he might not always understand the details. He knew they were just worried about him.

Logan also had to know that Patton had been considering just that. Virgil was so sweet like this. So cuddly. He was exactly the right height for Patton to pick up and carry him close to his chest where Virgil could hear his heart, and the song that it sung. A song only for Virgil and for Logan. 

It would be lovely to keep him like this, to have a little boy by his side forever. To keep him innocent and pure, and not have to worry about the world as an adult. Logan did have a point though. He was only a child and Virgil deserved to be able to grow up. To become an adult, to learn more and to grow. To not be so tiny. He should be allowed to age. 

To die?

No. No, Patton couldn’t allow that. He wouldn’t. His son might be cursed with mortality but that didn’t mean that Patton had to let it happen. 

First things first however. He had to worry about him growing up and then he would worry about him growing old. Both the solutions were simple enough really, it was just a matter of being brave enough to make the choice. It would be a sacrifice and yet at the same time, it wouldn’t be. To change his life in order to make sure Virgil had a better one seemed like no issue at all.

“Then I’ll stay,” Patton declared, eyes dropping down to stare once more at the still sleeping child. It was amazing how peaceful he looked, how relaxed. He was truly perfect. Not for the first time, he felt a mix of bewilderment and rage aimed at his old father, at how he could have rejected this. 

“What?”

“I’ll stay with him. Here, in this realm. In this forest. I’ll raise him and love him and once he’s old enough, he can come and join us. As a free member of our society. As my son.” It wasn’t the first time he had said those words, verbally made that claim, but he couldn’t help the proud smile 

“No Pat,” Logan disagreed after a short pause. They took a step forward, one hand lifting to hover over Virgil’s hair. For a wild, improbable moment, Patton was struck by the urge to shield Virgil from Logan’s touch as though it was something dangerous. Something that might hurt or take his son from him. No, this was Logan. Logan would never harm Virgil, not now they knew how much Patton cared for him. They would never be that cruel. 

Patton was just being over dramatic as always. He felt ashamed by those feelings. Hadn’t he just felt annoyed at Logan for judging him? For thinking that he would play with a child? And yet he had allowed himself to do exactly the same to his love. Logan was better than that. He would make it up to them later. Right now, he could help but not pulling away and let them do whatever it was that they wanted. 

Logan stared down at Virgil. There was a strange glint in their eyes as though they were examining some brand new and exciting thing. Patton could understand that - he might have seen a human child before, but until this night he had never seen _Virgil_ before and that made all the difference. Logan’s hand was still hovering above Virgil’s head.

Finally, they sighed and gave a little nod, apparently coming to a conclusion. 

“As _our_ son,” they finally finished, hand making contact with Virgil’s hair. The little boy made a soft little noise in his sleep, shifting a little towards the touch. It was one of the cutest things Patton had ever seen Virgil do. Of course, all the things he had seen Virgil do were cute, but this was something else.

This was special and although the little boy might not even realise it, this was him accepting Logan. As... as... did they really mean that? Patton stared at Logan, his gaze soft and awed. 

“You mean...” he whispered softly, unable to actually put it into words. He didn’t want to force the idea onto Logan if that wasn’t what they had meant. Expression was as serious as before, Logan giving another short nod. 

“Yes love. I’ll stay too. You will need someone to keep you both out of trouble and I must confess he is... wiser than most mortals I have encountered. Wise enough to recognize my superior intellect. I am... curious to discover how he will grow in time.” 

It was as close to a declaration of love as Virgil was going to get anytime soon but that was okay. Logan was like that. It would take them time to accept the feelings that had apparently stirred within them. And almost as much time to even understand that there had been feelings.

The important thing was that they had chosen to stay with them both. And it wasn’t just for Patton’s sake but for Virgil as well. They were going to be a family! Things were going to be better now. It was all going to be perfect. 

“What about his name?” Logan asked suddenly. Patton blinked a few times, an uncertain expression crossing his face. 

“What about it?”

“You know what I mean love. You took it, you changed it and him. He might be a human but you’ve made him more because of that. He has power and he is in your power.” 

“He doesn’t need to know,” Patton said firmly. He started to walk away from the circle, deeper into the wood and safety. “I love him and I’m going to take care of him, I don’t want him to think he is any more different than he has to be.”

_Present Day..._

Being the son of the Chief was not all sunshine and puppies. Yeah, he was the most important person in his generation and there was an unspoken assumption that when the time came he would pretty much inherit the position but it wasn’t a guarantee. Roman still had to prove himself worthy of that assumption, of the bloodline that he came from. Out of the last five generations before him, four of them had become chieftains and Roman was determined that he would carry that on. That he would be a good leader. The kind of leader that they would remember - in a good way - decades down the line. Roman wanted people to tell tales of his exploits. For men and women to swoon at his name. 

It wouldn’t be easy. But it was something Roman was determined to earn. Being who he was, came with all sorts of responsibilities. Normally, Roman didn’t mind that too much. He enjoyed being the center of attention and doing whatever he could to help the people of the village. He enjoyed working hard, learning everything he could about everyone. It wasn’t enough to just know that there was a blacksmith in the village - Roman had to know what that job meant, what the blacksmith needed and what the chief could do to help. 

But he also enjoyed the moments when he could sneak off and just indulge in some of his interests which were perhaps not as acceptable as his leadership displays. The rare moments when he could sing and forget all the weight he carried and just enjoy himself. Dad didn’t approve, but then the man didn’t approve of anything unless it was official chieftain duties. 

The day had started well, but by lunchtime it had shifted completely, into something terrible. 

His dad had found out about his secret trips to the forest. Roman had known that he wouldn’t take it well, but he hadn’t expected him to take it that badly. For him to start ranting and raving, yelling about the dangers of the forest before slipping off onto a lecture about the futility of singing. The Chief had never approved of his love of the arts, had called it a waste of time. Something which would just distract Roman from things that actually mattered.

The lecture had eventually moved onto becoming an argument and that had ended with Roman running out of the house, his dad yelling that he was forbidden to waste any more of his life daydreaming in that manner. 

Safe to say, Roman had seen better days.

Singing in the forest made things a little better. It always did. Ever since that first day, months ago now, when he had first come up here, he had felt a connection to the trees. Ridiculously, he knew, but it was almost as though the forest itself was listening. More than that, it almost felt as though the forest liked what he had to offer. 

Something drew him back here, time after time. Roman knew better than to tell anyone in the village that of course. They would ignore his own feelings, his own views. They would ignore the fact that he felt happy up there and instead focus on the single thing that could be 

They would blame the fae. When it came down to it, they blamed the fae for anything and everything that went wrong in their lives. Even when it was impossible. Crops withered, animals died, partners cheated or ran away - it was all because of the fae. Not bad weather, poor diet or the terrible way in which the partner was treated.

No, it was always the fae at fault, and that was one of the many reasons why officially nobody was allowed into the forest. 

Everyone knew the risks. The fairy circle was right there after all, a portal of magic and mischief that was just waiting to lure you away. And they might have a point about it being dangerous or even responsible except he had never seen any hint of a fae in all his time there. He had never felt like prey or a game or any of the words the other villagers would use when they swapped stories about the magical beings that lived near them. 

Maybe the fae liked him enough to let him come and sing. That, in its own way was dangerous. People liked to say that the only thing worse than the fae hating you, was if the fae liked you a little too much. It was safer to keep your head down, to slip by unnoticed. To be boring - and despite the risks, Roman couldn’t bring himself to be boring. 

Still, so long as he didn’t actually step inside the circle, he should be fine. And if the fae showed up to try and tempt him in, Roman would very politely refuse and then run like crazy in order to get away from them. If that did happen, then he would know better than to come again. 

He had his own protection too. Roman knew the stories, he knew not to anger them and he knew how to protect himself. Just in case. Surely there was no harm in using the space beside the circle? Roman made no claim to ownership, he didn’t want to cause any damage to it or change it. He simply wanted to enjoy the serenity the area brought him. 

Either way, there had only been one place that could calm him down after that fight. It didn’t matter that he was doing exactly what his dad had literally just forbidden him from doing. All he could focus on was that horrible sick rage in his chest and how he needed to get it out. Singing seemed the safest solution. Roman poured all his frustration, all his pent up emotions into his song, almost screaming some of the lines.

It wasn’t fair that he was expected to give up something he loved, just because it didn’t fit into his dad’s view on what his son should be. 

Singing helped work through his feelings. He still didn’t understand his dads point of view - honestly, Roman didn’t really want to understand it, because understanding was a step closer to accepting it. He couldn’t give up his passion, his outlet. He couldn’t turn his back on everything inside of him that made him want to sing and dance. 

All he could do was move in time to the music in his mind. The tune was finally a gentler one, Roman swaying as he danced around the clearing. In his mind, there was another in his arms - not anyone in particular, as much as Roman loved the idea of being in love, there was nobody in his village that caught his eye. He just liked to imagine being someone’s, to hold them close. Lightly, he shifted, unwittingly moving closer and closer to the circle. Looking back on it, Roman could almost have sworn that something had been tugging him forward, some desire he didn’t understand and wasn’t truly his own.

Or maybe that was just the beauty of hindsight. 

Suddenly, another body was pressed against his own. Roman was too startled to do anything other than let the stranger spin him, his eyes closed and lost in the moment. In a way, it felt as though his fantasy had come to life. He was dancing with someone else, a mysterious someone that fit perfectly in his hold. For one brief, glorious moment, he was perfectly in step with this person and every inch of him was on fire. This was perfection, this was what he had been looking for his whole life, this... this - this was wrong.

He froze. There shouldn’t be anyone else here. Nobody was brave enough to come up here. Nobody would have just grabbed him like that. Well, nobody from the village at least. Roman could hear breathing now that he focused on that over the sound of his own heart. Short and shallow little gasps, as though whoever was in his arms was in pain. That was enough to make Roman open his eyes, gazing down at the person pressed against him. 

Roman stared into purple eyes. Stunning, bewitching, purple eyes.

Was this the fae of the forest? 

For another tense pause, nothing happened. Roman was barely breathing as they stood there. In all his wildest dreams and flights of fantasy, he had never imagined he would be in a situation like this, holding the most beautiful being he had ever seen in his life. Belatedly, he noticed the trampled down grass from where he had danced and how close he had come to entering the circle. The fae... the fae’s actions had stopped that? Roman felt even more confused and he didn’t understand what was going on. 

With a sharp little gasp of air, the fae jerked backwards, breaking the hold between them. Despite the warmth of the sun, Roman couldn’t help the shiver that ran through him now he was standing alone once more. Strange, considering he always was alone. The fae was almost falling over his own feet as he scrambled backwards, away from Roman and towards the forest. 

“Wait!” Roman called out without thinking. Logically, the safest thing to do would be to let the fae leave. He hadn’t asked for Roman’s name or tried to trick him. He hadn’t behaved at all like the stories said he would. That should be a good thing because Roman wasn’t completely stupid. He wasn’t suicidal and despite the fight with his dad, he rather liked his life. Roman certainly didn’t want to get stolen away by the fae and never see his home again, which was the sort of thing that was bound to happen if you talked for too long to a fae. 

But he had saved Roman from the circle. He had stopped him from crossing over and Roman couldn’t just let someone as beautiful as that fae leave without talking to him. Roman had to understand why he had done all of that instead of what he was meant to do. Curiosity was his downfall. It didn’t make it any easier to handle, knowing that it was a flaw within himself. It certainly didn’t stop Roman from being curious and that was the worst thing.

To his great surprise, the fae had actually listened to him. The purple haired beauty was a good few paces away, his whole body frozen, head turned back to face him. The fae was staring at him in fear. 

It wasn’t a pleasant look. Roman could feel his heart revolting at the sight and the fae was far too beautiful to ever have such an expression on his face. If he was being honest with himself, the main thing that he hated about that look was that it was aimed at him. Roman found it hard to handle the mere idea that someone could be that scared of him. It made him feel like a monster and he wasn’t that - he couldn’t be that. 

“Please,” Roman tried, dropping his voice down a few octaves, hoping that a lower, gruffer voice might be less threatening than his shout of before. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to... scare you?” 

Words came out more like a question than anything else, and although it was impossible to ignore the expression and what it meant, that didn’t mean he understood. How could he - a mere human - scare something as powerful, otherworldly and downright beautiful as this fae?

“Who said you scared me?” The fae was scowling now and while that still wasn’t a great look, it was a vast improvement on the fearful stare of before. It was the sort of look Roman had seen in the mirror countless times. When he wanted to appear tough on those days when he didn’t feel it. Did that mean the fae was acting now? Wasn’t acting like lying to them? The words hadn’t eased his confusion in the slightest. 

At least he finally got to hear the fae talk. What a heavenly voice. Even apparent anger couldn’t hide the enchanting nature of that gravelly voice, so divine, so delicious. Roman wanted to hear him say everything - even his name, no matter how dangerous that actually was. First things first however, he had to convince the fae to stay. To calm down or whatever it would take for the fae to give him a real conversation. Perhaps Roman should offer something first? It was strange to imagine that he would be the one trying to comfort a being that could crush him. 

“I don’t mean you any harm... I’m... I’m Princey.” Roman stumbled a little over his name, remembering at the last minute that he wasn’t supposed to tell him his real one. They could do things with that. It was pretty much the first warning anyone would say when the subject of the fae came up. Don’t give them your name, because that was giving them you. And then stolen away by the fae for the rest of your no doubt short life. 

The fae lifted a hand, pushing some dark hair out of his eyes. It didn’t do much good, the bangs instantly falling back into place. That brief look had enabled him to get a better look at the rich hues of purple which made up those impossible iris. No matter how dangerous it was, Roman just had to learn more about him. A bubbly, excitable feeling was building up in his chest, the sort of glee that came with the thought of something new. Could you be friends with a fae? Roman didn’t know but he was determined to find out. 

Roman offered his best smile and waited. 

“Star,” the fae mumbled at last, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground. One boot scruffed at it awkwardly, almost as though he didn’t know what to do with his body now he was no longer in fight or flight. And if Roman didn’t know better, he would have sworn that he could see a pale tint of pink dusting on those pale cheeks. 

“What?”

“You can use the name Star.” The fae - Star - was differently blushing now, there was no mistaking it. That joyful feeling inside of him expanded and maybe there was hope yet. 

“It’s very nice to meet you Star,” Roman enthused, meaning every word. No matter how odd it might sound. From the look Star was giving him, it had to seem very strange indeed. Roman couldn’t really blame him of course; had there ever been a human before that was happy to see a fae like this? Who wanted just to talk to them without any ulterior motives. Roman had no desire to make a deal or a wish, but the chance to maybe become friends was too wonderful to pass up. 

“You are an odd human. Not what I expected,” Star told him slowly, a hint of suspicion in those eyes. No doubt he was waiting for the sting, for the other shoe to drop and Roman to either start badgering him to fulfill his desires or to attack him. Neither of which, he had any intention of doing. If only he could convince Star of that.

“Oh!” Roman exclaimed, eyes widening. He didn’t want to attack Star, but equally, he really didn’t want Star to try and hurt him. Roman didn’t believe he would - there had been plenty of opportunity for him to do that before now if that had been his plan and he hadn’t - but at the same time, he couldn’t afford to be seen as too weak. 

“Before I forget! Just in case you plan to try anything, I’m not helpless and I don’t want to be dragged off into any games. You seem nice and all, and I don’t think you will, but I do have protection.” 

Roman fumbled a little in his pocket before grasping the small bundle of nails and pulling them free. He held them aloft in a triumphant manner, proud that he had remembered to bring them with him. It was better to be safe than sorry. And better that the fae knew he wasn’t someone to be messed with. 

“Iron?” The fae stared at the bundle in Roman’s hands, the very tips of the nails poking out of the red headscarf that Roman had tied them in. It wasn’t his most elegant work and really, he should have made it better, but he wasn't really sure how it worked. Did the fae need to see the nails? Or would the threat of iron be enough? Would they trust him if he said it? It wasn’t as though Roman could ask anyone these specific questions; everyone was fine with vague, doom laden theories about how the fae was the curse of the land but ask anything concrete and they had no answers.

Worst, they might have told his dad, and then dad would have taken the nails. It wouldn’t have surprised him if dad had started locking him in his room if he realised just how close Roman was getting to the fae circle. Roman wasn’t really sure what he had expected when he pulled the bundle out for the fae to see. Some recoil? Maybe an expression of respect, of understanding? A wry smile because Roman had thought ahead and had defeated their dastardly plan? 

He certainly didn’t expect the fae to reach forward and pluck the small bundle out of his hands, staring down at it 

“Are you _insane_?” The words were almost screeched, Star tossing the packet down on the ground, a horrified look on his face. He didn’t appear injured - thankfully, Roman didn’t want to hurt anyone, and he really didn’t want to hurt Star. But he had touched the iron. That should have hurt him surely? The nails weren’t properly wrapped after all and he had seen the heads brush against the palm of Star’s hand. Were all the stories... wrong? That was a scary thought. Star waved his arms around, expression stuck somewhere between the horror of moments ago and a weird sense of disbelief. 

“You come into the forest, waving iron around? Are you _looking_ to get yourself killed, you moron?” 

“Hey!” Roman couldn’t help but feel a little offended by that remark. Sure, Star was cute, and yes, he had saved him from falling into the circle, but that didn’t mean he could go around throwing those sorts of words at him. Roman had just been doing his best to keep himself alive, what was wrong with that?

“I had to protect myself! The stories all say fae can’t be trusted and as much as I want to trust you, I had to show that I was capable of defending myself if I had to.” 

A defense that now that he thought about it, was lying uselessly a few feet away from them both. There wasn’t even any point in trying to run and grab it. Even if by some miracle, it turned out he was faster than Star, it was clear that the iron didn’t _do_ anything to him. 

Star huffed, lifting a hand and giving him a dismissive wave. Well, he certainly wasn’t scared of him now, that was for sure. 

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a good plan. Keep the iron on you sure but you never show it to the fae. That’s a declaration of war. A fae will respect that you have it, they will sense it without you needing to... pull it out like the weapon it is. You’re lucky I’m not fae, or you’d be in pieces right about now.”

“You’re... not?” Roman couldn’t think of anything else to say beyond those two words and how could he not be fae? That was the weirdest thing he had said or done - which said a lot considering how confusing the whole interaction had been. Star gave him a strange look and shook his head. 

“No. I’m human. Just like you.”

Not just like him. The hair and the eyes weren’t just like him. There was an otherworldly, magical aura to Star. It drew Roman ever closer. There was something beyond enchanting about him, something that was unmistakably alien and different. Something so beautiful and Roman had never met anyone ever like Star. He couldn’t ‘just’ be human - could he? Still he had to be telling the truth. If he was fae, he couldn’t lie, so that meant he was being honest. But how could he be honest when he looked, sounded and acted like a fae? 

There were no other villages within a few hours of his own and Roman couldn’t believe that anyone would travel all this way just to hide in the forest. Not to mention, nobody would willingly chose to stay in the forest for longer than they had to. Even Roman tended to leave as soon as his singing was done. The forest might allow him to visit for a little bit, but he knew better than to outstay his welcome. All in all, it was unlikely that Star was actually human. But he had to be, because fae didn’t like.

Roman was starting to get a headache. 

“I have to go,” Star announced suddenly, the conversation shifting rapidly and Roman instantly forgot his inner confusion about what the boy really was. His race didn’t matter so much in this moment compared to the fact he was leaving. 

“No, wait, please,” Roman pleaded and it was too soon for Star to go. He needed to talk to him some more, he needed to get to know this human better. Star looked behind him for a moment, as though in answer to something only he could hear or see before glancing back and giving a resigned shrug. The regret on his face seemed genuine enough but that wasn’t much comfort right now.

“Sorry Princey, I really have to.”

“Well then, please, can I see you again?” Roman was aware he was dangerously close to begging, but he couldn’t help it. There was so much he wanted to say to Star, so much more he wanted to know. Not to mention, he had just heard his nickname spoken in that low tone of voice and instantly, Roman needed to hear it again. This couldn’t be the end of their story, it just couldn’t.

Star looked over his shoulder once more, shifting on his feet a little as he warred with whatever in his mind. After a couple of seconds like that, Star darted for the trees, leaving Roman just standing there in shock at the movement. He paused at the edge of them and gave Roman a sharp, wild smile. It was confident and it did all sorts of unexpected things to Roman’s insides. 

“Sing me a song Siren and maybe I’ll come to see you. Maybe I won’t.” 

With that, he was gone.

\---  
It amazed him that Princey hadn’t seemed aware of his heart. The organ had been screaming inside of his chest during the whole interact, so loud that at times Virgil hadn’t been able to hear his own voice over it. Foolishly, he had thought it had been loud before, but now Virgil knew that the beat of anticipation was nothing compared to the beat that came with actually doing it. He couldn’t believe he had! That he had spoken to his human and been given a nickname to use for him. It suited him just as well as Siren, but it was far more special because it was one that the boy had offered.

Princey.

His Princey. Virgil could feel the blush burning his cheeks and perhaps Thomas had a point about how obvious he was actually being when it came to the human. It wouldn’t do for Dad to get suspicious and if he ever spoke to Princey again, it would be nice if he could do it without seeming like an idiot. 

That didn’t change the fact however that Princey was his even more now. When he had just been his Siren, some vague, theoretical thing, Virgil had felt possessive. Had felt the need to protect and look after him, to keep him safe from the dangers of the forest. That was nothing compared to how he felt now. Because now he knew how his voice sounded, he knew a name that Princey liked to use. Most of all however, he knew that his human was a complete and utter moron.

Well meaning, and not malicious, but still, an idiot. Only an idiot would think to wave something like iron under the nose of someone they suspected was a fae.

The idea that Virgil could somehow be mistaken for a fae was enough to make him want to snort in disbelief. He wasn’t special, he wasn’t magical like Father or even Uncle Sleep. He couldn’t summon things or slip through the top of trees as if he were made from leaves. Dad could move from one side of the forest to the other in a blink of an eye. Father could cast a glamour on themselves and visit far away human settlements with them oblivious to their real face.

All Virgil had going for him was his good hearing and the people he had been lucky enough to be surrounded by.

And of course, he also had his Princey. He was _his_ and Virgil had no intention of giving up what was his. Maybe this was how his parents felt when it came to him. Just because he wasn’t a fae biologically, didn’t change the fact that to all intents and purposes, he had been raised as one. When he saw something pretty, he wanted it. And when he got something in his hands, he had no plans to let go. Virgil wouldn’t go so far as to steal - to take anyone like that was the sort of wrong that made him feel physically sick.

Princey seemed to want this too however and that was something Virgil clung to. Not that he was one hundred percent sure what _this_ even was. 

There was nothing in his life that Virgil could draw upon to compare it. Nothing that gave him any sort of hint as to what he was meant to do next. Or what had just happened. The urge to listen to Princey sing was still there within him, but it was tempered now with an increased desire to protect him. Because as much as he liked the human, if Virgil wasn’t around to keep an eye on him then who knew what he might get up to?

“Vee...”

Just like that, the spell was broken. Virgil looked down at the basket Thomas had suddenly thrust into his hands, at the collection of leaves and berries within. Gifts for his parents, for the people he loved more than anything else in the world. Parents who really wouldn’t approve of Princey.

“Don’t Thomas... just... I know, okay?” Virgil swallowed heavily, eyes fixed on the basket he was holding. It all seemed so very... tiny, all of a sudden. Dad would be so disappointed in him and Father... well, Father might not say anything but they would be just as upset. They would bottle it up and that would be even worse, because they wouldn’t want to show their own weakness. They had given him everything and in return, Virgil had spent time with a human - something he knew without a shadow of a doubt was a thing they wouldn’t approve of. 

The image started to blur a little in front of him, Virgil blinking repeatedly to try and clear his eyes of the tears that had somehow gotten there. This wasn’t betraying them. Surely, it wasn’t betraying them? It wasn’t like Virgil had actually done anything with Princey.

Well, apart from save him and give him a family nickname he could use for Virgil’s name of course. 

Slowly, Virgil looked over at Thomas. The tree spirit was standing with his hands in the pockets of his coat, an uneasy expression on his face. It was all too easy to work out what Thomas was thinking - that was one of the many things he loved about his friend. Thomas was an open book. He wore his heart on his sleeve and the thoughts that passed through his mind were almost always reflected on his face. Virgil would have never discovered the truth about Thomas becoming his friend if it hadn’t been for that.

For once however, Virgil wasn’t looking at Thomas and brooding on the mistakes of the past. Instead, he was struck by a sudden fear, because he could see exactly what Thomas was thinking and it wasn’t anything good.

“Please, don’t tell my parents,” he gasped, clutching the basket tightly as though it was the only thing holding him together. “Princey didn’t do anything, but he’s going to come back and if- well, I don’t know what they’ll do, but I don’t want to find out.”

“He’s _human_ Vee,” Thomas protested. “What if he comes back with an axe? His kind do that. They might act all nice at first, but for all we know, that could just be an act. They can’t be trusted.” 

“I’m his kind too.” Virgil couldn’t help but whisper the response and was that really how Thomas saw him? As a human that was just playing a game with him? Then again, how could Virgil blame him? It was Virgil’s fault Thomas was here, that he was forced out of his home. Virgil couldn’t be trusted. All Virgil wanted was to try and protect Thomas, to look after him in the way Thomas had these last few years. 

Want and reality felt a million miles apart right now.

“By birth maybe. But you’re nothing like them Vee. You’re my best friend!” The intensity with which Thomas said those words made Virgil smile a fraction. Just a fraction. Just enough to reassure him that the tree spirit still cared about him. In the end, wasn’t that what really mattered? That Virgil nurture and protect the relationships he already had? Princey offered him a window into a world he had never wanted to see until now. He was the promise of adventure and Virgil wasn’t exactly keep on adventure. 

Maybe though - maybe, just maybe, he was slightly keen on Princey.

Keen enough to want to learn more about him and through him, the human world. A world that had apparently done nothing but hurt the rest of his family, if Thomas’ reaction was any hint. It was amazing that he didn’t blame Virgil for the actions of his kind but at the same time, of course Thomas wouldn’t think like that. He was far too good and pure for this world. Too sweet to ever consider the idea that Virgil could be anything like the rest of the human race.

“I don’t believe Princey is like them either. He’s had plenty of chances to hurt the forest and he never has. He had plenty of chances to try and hurt me, but he didn’t... okay, he had iron but he wasn’t trying to hurt me with it, he was just showing it to me. He’s dumb, not mean.” Virgil wished he could explain the feeling in his heart. The way in which every cell of his body somehow knew that Princey was a good guy. It reminded him a little of Father’s magic. 

The way it would curl around him, welcoming him, guiding him. It was such an instinctive thing, something that not even Father had been able to describe. All they had been able to do was allow Virgil to experience it. Only then did he finally understand the energy that made up his parent’s existence. Not that he had been able to put that push and fury into words. Only that it had been a rush like a raging river. Swollen from days of rain and so close to just breaking over the banks and spilling everywhere. Virgil had felt it course through him, had felt Father hold it steady and been in awe at the whole process.

Dad hadn’t wanted him to know what it felt like. Virgil loved Dad dearly, but there were times, just occasionally, when he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Dad wasn’t always... right. Dad wanted to protect him from the world. Most of the time, Virgil wanted to be protected. To be safe was so much better than the terrifying alternatives that awaited him. You couldn’t be protected from everything however. Eventually, Virgil needed to have those moments himself. Eventually, he would have to grow up.

Understanding more of what his parents were, was a part of that. 

Maybe the raging fire burning through his body at the thought of Princey was another thing that had to be understood in order to overcome. 

“That’s because you’re young and you don’t know how cruel the world can be. I’ve seen it all Vee. I know how low they can sink. Princey might not have tried to hurt you this time but what about the next? I heard him asking you to come back, it has to be a trap.” Thomas shook his head sadly, still keeping an even pace beside him. Thomas didn’t seem angry at him, only worried. That was so much worse. 

“Thomas...” Virgil didn’t know what else to say. Thomas made good points, of course he did. And if anyone was going to know the dangers of humans, it would be someone that had more experience with them than Virgil. Maybe he was just being naive. Princey was the very first human he had ever met after all, and what were the chances that the first one would turn out to be the one good one? Virigl wanted to believe that Princey was exactly who he seemed to be, but at the same time how could he be sure? 

“Your parents should know,” Thomas insisted stubbornly, returning to the original issue. He raised an eyebrow in semi challenge at Virgil and something inside him told him that he really wasn’t going to like what his friend was about to say, was he. “Are you going to make me not tell them?” 

It was as though Thomas had hit him with the basket. Or maybe a fallen tree branch. He swore he could see the stars that Dad said he was part of. It hurt as much as being physically attacked, the weight of those words. After everything, how could Thomas even suggest, for a moment, that he would do such a horrible thing. What had Virgil done to make him believe that?

“I’m... I’m not going to order you Thomas,” Virgil replied. “You know I won’t do that. It’s your choice and if you tell them... well, I can’t stop you. I just... please, trust me? Give Princey a chance, I promise, the moment he does something wrong, I’ll accept you’re right and you can tell my parents. But let’s give him the chance. We are better than humans. They judge by one example, one mistake and out of fear they could doom a whole world. We’re better.” 

“The first sign of trouble from him, I won’t be warning the fae, I’ll be choking the life out of him myself,” Thomas promised eventually.

“That’s... dark, but fair,” Virgil couldn’t help but admit. And so much more than he thought he would get. “I love you Thomas, you know that, right? I would never... I would _never_ do that.”

As much as Virgil was relieved that Thomas was willing to give Princey the chance he had begged for, he couldn’t get over the idea that his friend seemed to think that Virgil would take advantage of the bond between them. It had been Virgil’s fault the connection had been created in the first place, but he had never willingly or knowingly used it. And he never would. Not even Princey was worth that.

Thomas leaned forward to cup Virgil’s cheek, pressing forehead against forehead. The last of the tension drained away from Virgil at the physical contact. He sighed softly, relaxing into the hold. In this second, all his worries felt very far away indeed. 

“I know little bud. I wasn’t thinking. You’re not like...” Thomas trailed off, the unspoken words pulling Virgil’s fears right back into the forefront of his mind. That had been a nice moment, when he had been able to not be anxious about something. Or course, it could only last for a moment. Not like who exactly? 

Not like humans? Not like his parents? But if he wasn’t like either of those groups, who would maybe - and had done - that, then where did that leave Virgil? 

Thoughts for another day. Or another night. There was little chance he was going to get much sleep tonight, and what better time to anxiously obsessive over what Thomas could have meant, along with what was going to happen next in his life, than at two in the morning? 

“Come on Thomas,” Virgil said softly, urging them onwards, the pair moving once more. “I need to wash my hands about ten times to make sure there isn’t the slightest trace of iron on them and then we can take this basket home. Let’s focus on something else for a bit. Princey isn’t here.” 

Despite the smile that Thomas gave him, Virgil couldn’t help but still feel somewhat sick, and it seemed as though his mind wasn’t willing to wait for the small hours of the morning before torturing him. The knot in his stomach had reformed, a tight, clenching mass of dark thoughts and fears. He wanted to see Princey again. But he also wanted Thomas happy. He wanted to protect and love his parents. They didn’t fit together, not all his desires. There was no way out of this without someone being hurt. Virgil just needed to work out how to make sure he was the one who paid the prince, not anyone he loved - or in the case of Princey, liked. 

_Fourteen Years Previously..._

“Give me your name little one and I promise you will never be beaten again. You’ll be safe and fed with me... only give your name to me,” Patton crooned, hand lifting to brush through the child’s dirty hair, cuddling him close. 

The fae found himself holding his breath as he waited for the child to respond. Patton’s wants were normally simple and even more simple to achieve. It wasn’t as though he wanted much from life, and he was experienced enough to actually gain it. 

He wanted his Loganberry, to wrap himself in the love that the other fae would give him. He wanted to dance and sing as he desired, to lose himself in the glory of nature. He wanted to be safe and happy and fed. To be content. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t desire kingdoms and power. He had no interest in gold or treasures that mortals would crave. A piece of shining jewellery was lovely to look at and play with but it was nothing more than a trinket in Patton’s eyes. He would be distracted by a pretty flower or the play of sun through the leaves and the offering would slip through his fingers, ignored and forgotten about. 

He was used to getting what he wanted because it came so freely and easily to him. Love and attractive things were in abundance in this world or his own. Patton was content and had never really desired something with the same fire that so many mortals seemed to possess.

But he wanted this little one with an intensity that surprised even himself. Patton had owned many humans over his long life. Most had ended badly - for them. He rarely, if ever, actually went looking for them, he allowed them to come to him, had accepted their treats, their gifts. He had played their games because they had been the ones to start them. And in the end, when they stumbled, he had no choice but to take things to their end. Even if it was an end that neither enjoyed. 

This little scrap of life under his hand was not the greatest life he had ever had the chance at owning. Yet it somehow felt the most special. The boy weaved his way into Patton as though he possessed a spark of magic of his own. 

Somehow, he already knew that this would not be the same sort of deal as before. This wasn’t to own and keep and dispose of when he got bored. This was a commitment on both sides, even if the child was too young to really understand the details. He didn’t need to understand them. All he had to do was believe Patton when he spoke his simple truth. 

That things would be so much better for him if only he would give himself to Patton. 

He lifted his hand, tucking a stray lock of hair behind the boy’s ear, trying to offer him as comforting a smile as he could. Too many teeth. Patton knew he had too many teeth for human eyes. That his ears was a little too long, his eyes just a little too bright. He looked like fae because he was and because he had never seen any reason to hide it. 

The boy was still staring at him. He didn’t seem afraid by his face, by his smile. There was still fear in the air, of course, but it was the same as before, fear of what was behind him and not in front. He watched as the child bit at his lip, chewing at it thoughtfully.

“I don’t... I don’t have a name,” the boy whispered at last. Patton blinked a couple of times, confused by this sudden shift, this change in what he had been expecting. That was neither a yes, or a no. 

Everyone, everything had a name. A true name, a soul name. 

A name that granted power to anyone that knew it true, but Patton wanted to know it for the purest of reasons. His little star had been so honest up till now. Why would he lie? He... had to be lying, didn’t he? Or maybe he didn’t understand the question. Patton would just have to ask in a different way and he wasn’t about to give up.

“What does your father call you little one?” 

“He calls me brat? Or changeling? Will one of those do Mr Fae?” The little boy was still looking at him with such wide, hopeful eyes. He spoke the words so easily, so simply. They were his truth. No matter how much they struck at Patton’s soul, and if anything, how calmly the boy seemed to accept those insults as his true form just made it hurt all the more. 

“Those... those aren’t names, my sweet shooting star.”

The child looked so crushed, head dipping down as he physically seemed to withdraw into himself. He wrapped his arms around his tiny torso, as if attempting to hug himself. That was probably the only positive touches he ever had and he had to give them to himself. Patton couldn’t imagine his father touching him in any tender way. Not that he had actually met the man yet - the voice was growing louder and louder, it would be mere moments before he reached the circle. But he didn’t need to meet him, to know him.

A monster. 

The true kind of monster, the one that humans liked to whisper were the fault of fae. It was humans and humans alone who brought misery and suffering to others of their kind. Yes, Patton and his sort might steal away the occasional human or two. Quite often terrible things might happen to them. But unless they were crossed first, they never sought out the humans to do deliberate harm. Not the sort of vengeance that was burning through Patton’s blood now. The boy without a name, suffering years of neglect and abuse was innocent of any crime. And yet his own father condemned him to this agony.

That was a deed that was worthy of being repaid in blood. Patton was looking forward to making the man realise the error of his ways. But first, there was still the little boy to deal with. Who was holding himself so tightly and waiting for the blow. He seemed almost resigned to his fate, as if he expected Patton to just give up on him now that he knew he was nameless. To consider him beyond helping. 

It broke Patton’s heart.

A soul without a name.

That wouldn’t do.

There was a solution of course. One that was both easy and so very hard. It had a permanence that other ideas might not. He could give the boy a name. Could bestow a fae name and a fae like life upon him. Not enough to change his mortal form, but enough to give his soul a name that was real. Enough to give him hope. And with a name, the child could give it back to him. So Patton could keep him. Not as a pet or prize but as his own starlight. 

There would be no turning back after this and Patton knew it. He hesitated for only a moment longer, before the choice was made. Logan would no doubt take longer. Would debate and consider the pros and cons of such a thing. They would allow his thoughts to move beyond the moment and into the future. They would actually bother to consider the consequences instead of being ruled by the whims of their heart. Patton couldn’t do that. He couldn’t ignore the blood that rushed through his veins, the pounding of his heart that sounded a drum in his ears. 

He needed this boy. As surely as he needed his Logan or the moon. 

“Virgil.” Patton decided, laying a hand over the little boys own, his cool fingers entwining with tiny warm ones. “Your name, your true name is a fae name. You’re my Virgil now, my son, my star.”

“Vir... Virgil. My name, Mr Fae, is Virgil. Is... is that good enough?” The boy - no, _Virgil_ \- struggled a little with the name but it sounded so right in his voice. He accepted the name and what was more, he offered it back up to Patton. Virgil. He was called Virgil. His Virgil. 

He was named. He was _Patton’s_. For, forever and a day. 

This little human child, clad in purple patchwork rags and barefoot. Who shivered and trembled in the cold of the night, his dark hair falling over large eyes. This was his choice. Patton had never felt more sure of anything before this moment. So innocent, so pure. He had been given the greatest gift anyone could possess and more fool the mortal father who didn’t realise what he had so carelessly tossed aside. His Virgil deserved the world and Patton was going to give it to him. He was going to make sure that Virgil soared, that he shone like the star he was. 

He was his son now. _His_. And unlike the waste of oxygen that had previous claimed that title, he wasn’t going to let him slip through his fingers. He wasn’t going to allow any harm to come to his precious new son. 

Patton’s eyes flickered up and away from Virgil to stare coldly at the man who had stumbled into the clearing. Slowly, deliberately, Patton took a delicate step to the side, standing in front of Virgil and blocking the boy from the man’s sight. 

It was partly to protect him, to silently let Virgil know that Patton wasn’t going to give him back to the monster. That was the message for Virgil. For the soon to be former father, it meant something else altogether. It was threat and promise, all in one. It was Patton marking his territory as surely as the name had done. In the normal course of events, he wouldn’t have been able to harm this human. The man might be a monster, but he showed intelligence enough to not enter the circle. 

Instead he lingered outside, his eyes hard and cold. Trying to work out what was going on. No doubt trying to work out how he could get Virgil away from him without entering the circle. As if he was safe where he stood. 

This wasn’t the normal course of events. The man wasn’t the treat on offer. He was the agreement. Virgil’s name for safety and no more pain. The only way to ensure he wasn’t hurt by his father anymore was to make sure that the father was simply not around anymore. Normally, Patton was rather opposed to violence for voilences sake. 

For his new son however, he would make an exception. Patton was quickly coming to the conclusion that for his Virgil, there was little he wouldn’t be willing to do. It would be a pleasure to snuff out this short life. To be the avenging cut on his thread of destiny. 

The smile Patton gave was once again filled with far too many teeth. It was far too sharp and unsettling to grant warmth but then it wasn’t directed at Virgil, but rather at the older human. Too late, the man seemed to realise what sort of danger he was in. He took a few stumbling steps backwards, his own eyes wide with fear. 

Good. It wasn’t enough. There was nothing that Patton could do to him in one night that would ever even the scales for what he had put Virgil through, but Patton would take that fear. The understanding that the rest of his very short life was going to be filled with pain.

There was nowhere the mortal could run. Nowhere he could escape the wrath of the fae. Not when he was determined, when he had to carry out the wishes of the child. Virgil might not realise what he had agreed to, but that - while regrettable - wasn’t the point. The magic demanded this mortal die. Patton demanded he die. That he suffer for hurting Patton’s son. 

Nobody was allowed to hurt what was his. No matter when they became his. 

Patton breathed out, his words aimed at both of them, his voice soft and yet it carried throughout the whole clearly. It was tinted with layers for each to understand. Because Patton wanted the man to understand. He wasn’t normally a vindictive fae, but he wanted this pathetic excuse of a mortal to realise what had happened. 

“Call me Dad, kiddo.”

_Present Day..._

Virgil didn’t know how many times - if any - that Princey had come to the clearing since the first time they met. He hadn’t returned to it since that impromptu dance. There had been no promise made. Virgil hadn’t sworn that he actually would return to the clearing and talk to Princey again. He’d tried to stay away, really, he had. For everyone’s sake but his own. Those he loved would be happier and it didn’t matter what Virgil might feel. Their happiness was all he cared about.

But Princey had acted as though he would be happy to see Virgil again. 

It was all so confusing, so contradictory and Virgil hated that he wasn’t strong enough to make up his mind one way or the other. If only he could decide. If only he could ignore the niggling urge in the back of his mind, the one that grew stronger by the day. The one that didn’t want the first meeting to be the last. 

Eventually, the urge had been too much to bear. Virgil had to know if Princey kept his word, if he came back for Virgil. He had to know if the other human actually thought he was worth the effort. Thomas hadn’t said a word of protest. There had been no need, Virgil had seen the disapproval clear on his face. It still meant a lot that Thomas came with him though, that he lurked in the shadows, ready to defend if needed. 

To his surprise, Princey was there. More than that, Princey was singing his heart out. There was a determined gleam in his eyes that made the blush rise even hotter on Virgil’s cheeks. Those warm brown eyes were scanning the treeline as he sung, making it obvious that Princey was searching for something - no, for someone. 

It was... awe inspiring, to know that he had such an effect on Princey. That the desire to see Virgil - to see him! - was enough to push Princey to do this. There was no way to know how long he had been singing or any detail, but it was enough to know that he was here at all. 

He didn’t come out at first. It was all a little too awe inspiring. A little too overwhelming, and the part of Virgil that won out was the part that wanted to hide from the world. Princey kept singing. He looked as though he would just stand there and sing for the rest of time if that was what it would take to tempt Virgil back into the open. The songs shifted in melody and key, tales of adventure and drama mingling effortlessly with the sorrow of a woman mourning the loss of her love at sea. Then, a joyful song about the joy of that same sea.

The sea. What must that be like? Blue as far as the eye could see, no trees, no shade or hidden places. Just waves and salt. The mere idea terrified Virgil, although he couldn’t help but be intrigued by the versions that Princey sang about. If he could stay on the shoreline, it might not be too bad. There would always be the trees to return to.

Just as there were the trees here that he could hide in to protect himself. 

That thought was enough to finally have him stepping out into the clearing and into Princey’s gaze. The look of undisguised joy made it more than worth it. He had stayed longer this time, chatting to the other boy, sitting on the grass next to him. For that brief period of time, Virgil had got to feel what it might be like to actually spend time with someone normal.

Someone cute, funny and sweet, but also normal. Virgil tried to focus on the last part of that thought, and ignore the rest. 

Thomas actually came out of the shadows on the third visit. He looked somewhat murderous and the glare sent Princey’s way had to more than a little unsettling. Was it wrong that he sort of liked it? Not the actual implication and Virgil certainly didn’t want Thomas to actually hurt Princey or anything. Still, there was a small part of him that couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pleasure at knowing there was someone who cared about him that much. 

It didn’t matter that he had spent most of his life around a family that adored him, to the extent that life before the fae was little more than a set of hazy nightmares. It still blew his mind to know that he was actually loved. Virgil couldn’t help but feel as though he didn’t actually deserve it. 

Princey didn’t deserve the glares. To his credit however, he hadn’t let the look put him off for too long, instead setting out to win Thomas over. By the end of it, however, he had smiled around Princey. He had even admitted that maybe the boy wasn’t so bad for a human. 

This might actually work.

Virgil wasn’t really an optimistic person. He lived his life waiting for the blow to land, for the vine to creep out and tangle you up so that you ended up falling flat on your face. If something bad could happen, then knowing Virgil’s luck it would happen. Dad had warned him time and time again that humans were so very dangerous. Father said the same, Thomas agreed. Uncle Sleep was very insistent on that point. Despite all of that, Virgil really wanted to tell him his real name. The desire was a secret he kept tightly locked within his own heart, barely daring to even acknowledge the want, let alone act on it.

He barely knew the human. As much as his heart insisted he knew everything that was actually important, there was still the inescapable fact that someone he had spoken to only three times was not someone Virgil could actually trust. His brain kept screaming that Princey was dangerous because compared to his family, he had known him five minutes. 

Normally, Virgil was pretty good at listening to his brain. It always tended to focus on the more negative possible outcomes. It was always eager to point out the countless ways in which something could - and certainly would - go wrong. It made sense to listen to his brain over any other part, because at least if he went into situations thinking of all the bad stuff, then his eyes would be wide open and alert to any danger. And, if a miracle happened and the something wasn’t actually that bad, then Virgil got to be pleasantly surprised. 

Now his heart seemed determined to take over when it came to the matter of Princey. It seemed so convinced that it knew best, that Princey was worth taking the risk on.

He just wanted to hear his name spoken aloud without any intent behind it. Princey was just a human, he wouldn't have the same sort of power that his parents did. Nicknames were a part of life. Sometimes, Virgil felt rather like a dragon with the manner in which he would hoard and greedily gather all sorts of names. Star. Vee. Little bud. Kiddo. Short life. _Son_. All of those and more were his, were proof that Virgil was real and in the moment. Nicknames that were his and his alone. 

His own name was different. His real, true name. His parents used it sparingly, and although they might not always intend it, whenever they used his name it came with a cost. Magic would sink into him, sometimes Virgil might forget what had happened. Other times he would be pushed into doing things. Either way, it was impossible to hear his name said by Dad or Father without another meaning behind it.

Virgil had spoken it aloud of course. In the dead of night, curled up in bed he had whispered it softly. Partly to remind himself that he had this name, that there was this part of him that Dad worked so hard to protect and keep hidden. 

That wasn't the same. His own voice didn’t count in the same way. He wanted to trust Princey so badly, wanted to risk it all. Telling Princey his real name was a gift, and about the only thing that he could give the boy. And Virgil really wanted to give him something.

\---

Roman was pretty sure he was in love.

Could you be in love with someone you met a grand total of three times? Was the fourth time too early to tell them that you were in love with them? Especially when you didn’t even know each other’s names? Those were all burning questions and ones that he had nobody to ask about. He couldn’t tell his dad, because that would lead to all sorts of questions that he either didn’t know the answer to or really didn’t want to answer. It was the same with his friends. Roman wasn’t willing to share the secret of his new friend with them in that way.

He would love to introduce Star to some of them. More than that, he would love to show Star some of the world in which he came from. It was sweet how naive he was on so many things. The first time he had mentioned spending the morning helping craft some jewellery with the silversmith, he had seen such wonder in those purple eyes. Star had shyly admitted that while he had seen jewellery and read about them, he had not seen the process. He had never made anything himself and from the tone of his voice, it was the sort of thing Star would have chosen to do, if the option was there for him.

It just made Roman's heart hurt. There was no doubt in his mind that the fae loved Star, but it still seemed cruel to have taken him from his original family, his original home. To keep him isolated in the forest with only animals and whatever the red eyed boy really was. Star should be with his own kind. He should be with Roman, because if he hadn't been stolen away to the forest then they might have grown up together. They might have ended up together.

Still, fate had conspired to push them together. They had a chance now, one that Roman wouldn't waste. The first step was showing him a little of his world.

Roman felt giddy at the idea of showing him around the village. Star had admitted he had read a lot, that he knew what horses looked like and cows. But he had never actually _seen_ one. He had never seen fields of corn, or more than one house. He had never seen more humans or anything that Roman took for granted. Not that Star seemed eager to explore his heritage. Roman hadn’t dared to bring it up directly yet, but he wanted so badly to show him the wonders of the world. If only he could work out how to ask without making it seem as though there was some ulterior motive.

All Roman wanted was to show him what he had missed, offer him a place to belong. To show Star what life could be like. If there was any ulterior motive, it was that he wanted to ask him to visit again and again. To maybe one day stay - but only if he wanted.

Star must have come from _somewhere_. And the only somewhere around here was Roman’s own village. Tentative questions hadn’t yielded any results. Even though the elders were perfectly willing to go into doom laden prophecies about the dangers of the fae and how they liked to snatch children, when it came down to it, there was no actual evidence. Nobody had lost a child in the last few decades and Star couldn’t be much older than Roman.

In fact, after he had started to really dig down into the stories, Roman had discovered that nobody at all had died or vanished because of the fae in years. There were plenty of rumors and bad behaviour blamed on them. But ever since the last watchman had stumbled off drunk into the forest nearly a decade and a half ago, only to be savaged by a wolf - or as some of the more superstitious among the village claimed, a particularly vicious fae - there hadn’t been any death that could be properly blamed on them. 

It didn’t solve the mystery of Star’s origins but it did reinforce Roman’s belief that the fae were not nearly as dangerous as the village would believe. The very fact that they chose to raise a human child with obvious love and care instead of leaving him to die proved that. They adored Star - perhaps they adored all humans. Perhaps they could adore him, accept him as Star's partner.

Roman had to slow down his thoughts. They were racing ahead, tumbling over themselves. He hadn't even asked Star out on a date, getting approval and acceptance from parents was much further down the list.

Even as he thought that, he was singing, filling the air with the sweetest tune he could. It was even more important now, that Roman be perfect, that each note shine and glow with beauty. There was no other way to contact him, and although it had only been a few days since their last meeting, to Roman it felt like an eternity.

The gentle rustle of leaves mingled with the last few notes of his latest song. His love had come to him, had answered his call. Roman felt his heart start to beat faster, the anticipation building within. There wasn't long to wait, the trees themselves seemed to part their branches to allow Star to step out and into his vision. 

“Hello Star.” Roman felt suddenly bashful now he was actually standing face to face with him. The purple eyed beauty was as breathtaking as ever and it almost wasn't fair that he could affect him so easily.

“Princey,” Star gave a smirk as he spoke and the look alone took his breath away. Combined with the way in which his nickname just rolled off his tongue and it was taking all his willpower not to drop to his knees right there and then. To confess his love, his devotion and how there were moments when he felt as though he already belonged to Star, heart and soul.

Roman needed to distract himself, before he combusted right there and then. They hadn’t even kissed! They hadn’t even had a conversation about if it would be okay to kiss and yet all he could think about was how much he loved Star. How the mere sight of him made his knees go weak and his heart race. How waking up, Star was the first thing he thought of - and the last before he fell asleep at night.

A day was better if it was a day in which he got to see him. 

Saying all of that required bravery. Roman had always believed himself to be a brave soul. Fighting for what was just and right. Yet here, faced with someone he wanted more than anything in the world, all his oft remarked bravery fled, leaving him as helpless as a newborn.

“Where’s your friend?” Roman asked instead, looking around for the red eyed boy. His scary friend. His protective friend and Roman supposed he couldn’t blame him for that. It was just yet more proof that Star was someone wonderful, that he could inspire such devotion in someone.

“It’s his day off,” Virgil replied, as though that explained anything. “He’s gone to his tree to rest.”

The words just created more questions than answers. Roman knew of course, that he wasn't human. Exactly what he was, was still a mystery but now the fact that he 'had a tree' could be added to the sparse list of clues. It didn't help right now, but Roman was an optimist and eventually the whole thing would come together in some kind of glorious whole. It had to. Until then, he would keep going as best as he could. Which meant facing Star and asking him to come see his world. Even if that brought the danger of rejection. 

Roman took a deep breath, in the hope it would calm the nerves that were still creating dozens of butterflies in his stomach. It only seemed to magnify them, as if the air was what they needed in order to breed. Dozens and dozens of the rarest, most stunning butterflies there were true. What else could love bring but that brilliant blue coloured butterfly that danced for only a brief moment. 

They both aided and hindered him, egging him on while letting Roman realise just how deeply he felt for Star. And how crushing the blow would be if this went horribly. No, that wasn’t the sort of thinking that he went with. He saw the good, the positive in things. If something went wrong, then it was just a learning experience, a chance to do better next time. So long as Star came back to him, then Roman could woo him.

It would help if he actually said some of those thoughts, instead of just staring like a moron. Star was looking a little concerned, head tilted to the side.

“Sta-”

“Wait,” Star interrupted, cutting off, hands lifting to his face. Roman froze, eyeing him curiously. 

"Are you okay?" Roman wasn't even sure if Star had heard him, his hands still pressed over his eyes. The other boy’s breathing was ragged, chest heaving up and down. Now it was Roman’s turn to be concerned, hand half lifted towards Star. Would touching help? Probably not. They had only ever sat next to each other before, and Roman was pretty good with body language. Star was so skittish, nervous, unexpected touches would probably push him over the edge. Roman had to focus on what would be best for Star, not his own selfish desires.

“Virgil!"

"Sorry?" 

“That’s... that’s my true name. I... I trust you with it.” Star stammered. He still hadn’t made eye contact but at least his hands had lowered away from his eyes. Thumbnail was firmly between his teeth, Star nervously chewing on it while his words slowly sank into Roman’s mind. Or rather the true significance of them. 

From what he had heard in the village and from what Star had been willing to tell him, a real, true name was the most precious thing a fae could possess. To willingly give it to someone was an act of great trust and dare he even think it, love. There was really only one thing Roman could say in response to that.

“I’m Roman.” 

More than ever, he was convinced he was in love with this star. This impossibly beautiful, brave star. His Virgil, his light. Who was quickly becoming his everything and if there was ever a sign that Roman should ask at least one of the questions burning in his mind. It still didn’t seem the right time for him to declare his undying love, but perhaps he could move them one step closer to that. 

“Virgil... I was hoping you might come see my world?" Roman asked nervously. 

"I... leave the forest?" Virgil didn't look too thrilled at the idea and that wasn’t the reaction that Roman had been hoping for in all honesty. He hurried on, words spilling over themselves as he tried to find the right words to describe how much he wanted Virgil to see the different wonders of his home. 

"Please, Virgil, I want you to come and see my home. All you’ve known is the forest. There is so much more. You can see all the animals, the workshops! I can show you our library, I might not go there too much myself, but my dad insists that it is the best one for miles around and he should know. He built it. Come and see where you came from. Where I came from. Not forever, just for a little while. Come with me Virgil."

Virgil hesitated for a moment. Roman could almost see the battle warring in his eyes as his love was torn this way and that. He wanted to come, Roman could feel it - or maybe just hoped it. But the forest was everything he had ever known, it was home in a way that frankly Roman couldn't help but feel a little jealous about.

“Okay,” Virgil whispered at last, a somewhat dazed expression on his face. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what he was saying and it just reinforced Roman’s love for his amazing love. It had to be terrifying, to step away from everything you had ever known. Especially when there was no way for him to be sure of what was waiting for him.

And yet he was choosing to do it, all because Roman had asked him. Maybe Virgil liked him back. Once he showed Virgil everything the village had to offer, he could ask. 

“I’ll come with you.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Eleven Months Previously..._

With a grunt of annoyance, Virgil barged into the room his dad was currently in. The house was set deep within the trees, protected by every layer of magic that either of them - and his uncle - could think to use. 

Or maybe not. He hadn’t really seen Uncle Sleep since that day in the grove. He had shown up once or twice, but never when Virgil had been with his parents. Once, he had been laughing with Virgil and Thomas before his father showed up. Sleep had seemed angry with them, vanishing in a huff. His father had never given him a reason for Sleep’s behaviour. 

Now, Virgil was pretty sure he had an idea why. If there was one thing that he could be sure about, it would be that Sleep would be angry about what happened. 

Not nearly as angry as Virgil felt, but still. Angry enough that he didn’t know what he was going to do, or how to handle the rage. Virgil had even felt a slight outback from the barriers, a moment of hesitation before it gave way, when he had tried to move through them. The magic had sensed his anger. More than that it had sensed where it was directed and and didn’t know what to do. He belonged in the house and he belonged to the magic and yet right now all Virgil wanted to do was scream at both his parents.

It was his dad’s bad luck that it was him he found first. 

“Kiddo!” As always, his dad looked delighted to see him. Usually that made Virgil at the very least _want_ to smile back. The knowledge that his appearance brought some sort of joy to his parents, that he was still wanted, was one that would normally be treasured. 

Today wasn’t a usual day. 

His dad seemed to notice that after a couple of moments, expression slipping into something a little less bright. 

“Star? What’s wrong?” The concern in his voice impossibly made Virgil even more angry. How dare he care after what he had done? How dare he be that selfish to not even care about anyone else? How dare he drag Virgil into such things and make him an accomplice to such actions?

“You bound Thomas and I?!” Virgil screeched, not caring if his voice would carry. He didn’t even care about the slight flinch that ran through his dad at the noise and rage behind it. So what if he upset him? He didn’t care.

No, that was a lie. Virgil hated lies. He hated the fact that he was capable of doing them, he hated the fact that they slipped out in thought and word so easily. A human weakness, one that he wished so desperately that he could outgrow. 

Fae didn’t lie. His parents had told him that over and over again growing up, everytime Virgil had slipped up and let a little white lie come out, when he had been scared he would be judged or they would be angry because he had slipped and broken something. 

Fae never told the whole truth either though. 

Honestly, he didn’t know which was worse. 

“How did you find out?” His Dad’s voice called him back to the present, the words instantly making everything that much worse. This wasn’t how his parents were meant to behave. His whole body shook with all the emotions coursing through him, so many more than he had any idea how to express. 

“That...” Virgil trailed off, giving a disbelieving snort. “That’s the first thing you say? No sorry, no feeble attempt at justifying it? Just why did your plan get discovered. Next thing, you’ll be asked what you did _wrong_?” 

“Don’t take that tone with me young man, you might not like what we did, but I’m still your dad. I did it to protect you.” 

There it was. His dad trying to justify it, just as Virgil had feared. He couldn’t help but notice however, what hadn’t been said - even now, his dad didn’t apologise for magically connecting Thomas to Virgil. For making him all but his slave. For tearing him from his home as if he was nothing. 

“Thomas is my friend. I thought... I thought the two of us were friends but we aren’t, are we?” 

“Kiddo, please, It’s not like that,” Dad pleaded, taking a step towards him. Virgil instantly took a step back, and he needed to keep his distance. If he let him get too close, then his dad would almost certainly sweep him into a hug. If that happened, then this was done because Virgil would forget all about why he was upset. He would let himself get caught up in the warmth and love. He would let his dad take away the bad feelings.

Virgil really wanted him to do that. Just like when he was a kid and scared of the dark, or the scary noises from the trees. He wanted to hide in the arms of his dad and know everything was as it should be. But that wouldn’t be fair to Thomas and after everything the spirit had been through and was still going through, he needed Virgil to be strong. 

“It is exactly like that. It was built on a lie. How can that be anything real?” Even as he spoke, some part of Virgil was aware that the same could almost be said of their relationship. He was owned by them and yet they both acted as though it was a family relationship, as if he really was their son. There was nothing Virgil wanted more in his life than to be their son - except, possibly, in this moment, a way to free Thomas. 

To ease his burden. Ironically, if a fae showed up now, wanting to make a deal, he might be tempted to either do that or make being a son real. 

No, it was different. He had always known what he was. He was still so very grateful for them. He knew they still loved him. Sometimes, it felt a little as if was the love you felt for a pet, but at the same time he was aware that it could just be his own paranoid nature counting against him. It was different, at the end of the day and that was all that mattered. That, and trying to find some way to save Thomas. 

His dad was frozen in place, a stricken expression on his face. Had Virgil ever rejected one of his hugs before? He couldn’t think of a time when he had moved away from his dad instead of towards him, but this wasn’t like anything before. He hated this conflict, he hated the swirling emotions that churned in his stomach. They made Virgil feel sick.

“Let him go,” Virgil demanded after a short pause. “Let Thomas out of whatever deal you forced him into. Whatever deal you made me make with him.”

It burnt to not know. Thomas hadn’t seemed able to tell him the details about what had happened. Thomas hadn’t even been allowed to tell him there had been a deal in the first place. If Virgil hadn’t worked it out himself and mentioned it almost off hand to Thomas, he would still be oblivious to the whole thing right now. 

This was something Virgil had done, this was a terrible crime that he had committed and he couldn't remember any of it. He should carry his own burdens. 

“We can’t,” Dad replied. 

“Why not.”

“He was summoned to protect you. He cannot just abandon that. The task isn’t done. Thomas will return to his tree when that is done and not before. It isn’t permanent, we didn’t hurt him. He will live as long as his tree, this is like... a holiday, that’s all.” 

Those cornflower blue eyes were shining brightly. Pleading with him to understand, to be a good little son and just accept this. His dad was saying everything in such a reasonable tone. As though Virgil was the one who was being silly here. As if his point of view was the only one that could ever matter. 

“You took him from his home!” Virgil snapped and why didn’t his dad get it? Taking someone, even for a little while was wrong. And his dad had given him a very good sense of what was right or wrong. Uncle Sleep clearly got it, Uncle Sleep knew that stealing Thomas away wasn’t the right thing to do. 

Sleep hadn’t told him though. He had seen what Virgil had done and he hadn’t thought to let him know the truth. Sleep had helped keep the secret and had let Virgil make things worse for years on end. 

“To protect you! Do not misunderstand me Virgil, your father and I will do anything, in order to keep you safe.” His dad drew himself up to his full height and for the first time in years, Virgil was struck by all the physical differences between them. It wasn’t how alien his dad looked, with teeth that were sharper than his own or a height that let him tower over him.

Rather it was how alien Virgil felt in this moment. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how this wasn’t his world. This wasn’t his family but then he didn’t have a world anywhere else. He loved his parents very much and he wished he could be better for them. Not here. He almost wished he could accept the way things worked. He almost wished that he didn’t see the flaw in compelling Thomas to be his guardian. It was still wrong though and Virgil still refused to back down. 

“Even hurt another,” Virgil replied flatly and he couldn;t get over that one point. He couldn’t bring himself to accept that his parents would hurt someone else. Even to protect him. Especially to protect him. Virgil couldn’t let himself be safe if it was going to be at the expense of another. There were dangers in the woods of course. So many dangers. Over his life he had run into more than his fair share of them. Most of them had known better than to mess with the son of fae. 

There had been one or two closer calls by even then, he had managed to get out intact. Virgil often thought about all the ways those could have gone wrong. How he could have ended up in pieces from powerful forces that saw him as little more than a bug to be swatted. Virgil tortured himself with those ideas in fact. It was terrifying, everything that was lurking in the dark. All the things that saw him as prey or plaything. 

Did that really make it okay to rip someone else’s life apart though?

“We didn’t hurt him! He’s fine! He’s happy and he can move about as he wills. We aren’t doing anything wrong and Thomas honestly wants to protect you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have reached out when you were calling for help when you first met. And he would have tried to stop us when we bound the two of you. Thomas knew you needed him and he was good. He let it happen.”

Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, in order to let the darkness behind them focus him. Was that really what his dad thought? More to the point, was that really what Thomas thought? He might have believed it at the time but Virgil had seen the look of pure longing on his face when he spoke of his tree. Of his home. Thomas wanted to go back and Virgil was going to make that happen.

No matter what. 

“Let’s make a deal,” he said at last, eyes opening to fix themselves squarely on his dad. There was no pleasure to be had in the way the fae paled, shaking his head in denial. They both knew what those would really meant. 

“A... deal? Kiddo... no.”

Back to Kiddo already? The use of his real name hadn’t slipped Virgil’s notice. His dad had toyed with the idea of using it, even if only subconsciously. Dad had wanted this to end, but only on his terms. 

Virgil wasn’t having any of that.

“Kiddo yes,” he insisted fiercely. If this was the game that his dad wanted to play, then so be it. “Patton... I, Virgil, want to make a deal with you. I want to gain some freedom for Thomas. You say you can’t break the bond between us, fine. But there is no way I need him by my side like some leashed animal for twenty four hours a day. I’m nearly eighteen. I have a right to privacy and he has a right to rest now and then.” 

“Do you know what you’re asking?”

“Dad. What if it was Uncle Sleep that this happened to again? What... what if it was me?” Virgil couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him at the thought. Out of all the creatures that roamed the world and all the things they could do - the idea of being someone’s plaything, trapped under their control against his will was by far the worst. 

Maybe it was because he was already under someone’s control but it was willingly that made the idea of being forced all the more frightening. He knew only too well what could happen because every now and then his parents had no choice - they said - but to use the power they held. Just as he had used his dad’s name for the first time ever. 

For a long moment there was a frozen expression on his dad’s face. It wasn’t one of horror, or fear. It was as though whatever emotion the fae was feeling was simply too strong for him to process. 

Dad’s face suddenly crumpled as he staggered backwards, one hand trying to brace himself against the wall. Pain flooded his features, pain so intense that even looking at it made Virgil’s own heart hurt. The teenager took a step forward without thinking, closing the gap that dad had opened up. 

“I... I never... I... oh, what did we do to him. We just didn’t know any other way to make sure he would stay. Trees are the best guardians but they take so long to decide to protect someone. Even then, they will only watch someone when they are within sight of the tree and we couldn’t tie you to a grove. We didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry son... but I can’t reverse the magic.” 

Any relief Virgil might have felt at knowing that his dad finally got it - or at least, he hoped he did - vanished with the knowledge that it didn’t seem to make a difference. Thomas was still trapped and locked away from his home. Nothing had changed. 

“Dad... I still want to make the deal,” Virgil whispered softly. “Let him have a little time to himself, please.” 

“Very well.” There was a resigned tone to the voice that let him know that dad was serious about this because he didn’t like it. Virgil felt himself tense slightly as he waited for his dad to speak again, to learn whatever it was that he was going to demand in turn for what he wanted. Virgil knew the rules. Dad had to follow them just as much as any other fae. He had to demand something and it had to be something real - he couldn’t just say he wanted a hug for example.

“I can shift the magic slightly. It will give him a day away from you every other month. In return... in return I want you to give me your word that you will never go back to the human village you came from.”

Virgil blinked a couple of times, waiting for the fae to laugh and say it was a joke. To ask for something else now that he had properly gotten his attention. 

It didn't happen. 

That was all his dad wanted? Virgil never _wanted_ to go back there. One of the things that haunted his nightmares was the thought that they might grow bored of him and send him back to the village. He honestly didn’t think he could survive going back there. And now his dad wanted him to magically promise to never return to a place he was scared of? That didn’t seem like he was giving up something real. 

For whatever reason, dad appeared to think it was important. Virgil would have agreed to not go back there if dad had only asked. 

There was nothing in the village that he wanted. 

“Done.” 

_Present Day..._

“Come on Lolo, dance with me!” Patton tugged at Logan’s arm, pulling the fae forward a little. The motion made Patton giggle, fixing Logan with the brightest smile he could. It had been forever since they had last danced - weeks - and he missed the feel of the other fae in his arms as they swayed. The sensation of dancing, the way bodies would spin and glide on the floor, how he could lose himself in the moment. There was nothing else like it. Not when Logan joined in. Or Virgil, when they danced the more sedate ones, when he taught their son how to move. Virgil was a natural at it, although his shyness kept him from fully embracing it.

One day. One day when Virgil was ready, when he was both old enough and comfortable enough with himself to dance freely, then Patton could finally show him everything that happened during a dance night. Well. Maybe not everything. But far more than he currently got to see. All Virgil had to do was believe in himself. 

“It is not the full moon love,” Logan pointed out after a moment, head tilting upwards to stare towards the sky. Not that they could see the sky, because they were indoors, but that was just the sort of action his love would do. Always looking for the literal in any moment. Hard, when you were a fae, but somehow Logan found a way to make it work. Only Logan would be able to make it work, and it was one of Patton’s favorite things about them. Then again, everything was a favorite thing about Logan. 

It was such a little thing and yet it made Patton fall in love with Logan all over again. 

“We can dance anytime. Come on, be a rebel.” 

Rebel wasn’t really the word he would use to describe Logan. But it was fun to imagine. Patton could see the smile that Logan was trying desperately to contain, their lips twitching ever so subtly. It was enough to know that his love was tempted. Patton liked to think that he was mostly good, but if there was one thing always played on the more naughty side for, it was tempting Logan. Seeing them flustered as they broke any of their internal laws was just too delicious and they were far too cute for words. It should be against the law. Maybe it was, maybe it was one of Logan’s, but if that was the case then they broke their own laws on a daily basis. 

It wasn’t fair that Logan allowed themselves to be bound by so many rules, almost all of them their own devising. Patton might not like it, but when it came to the large ones, he did try and behave. Logan needed the structure they provided. They calmed them, guided them and if that was what they needed in order to survive, then Patton would do his best to support it. 

The little ones were a completely different matter. It did Logan good, to be able to let go just a fraction of their control. To know that the world wouldn’t end should they step outside the defined borders they had set themselves. 

Admittedly, he sometimes had a problem understanding the difference between the two, but the important thing was that Patton tried his best. Right now, he was sure that dancing was a small rule to be broken. Logan loved to dance, and this wouldn’t be the first time Patton tempted him to do so. He hoped it wouldn’t be the last. 

Logan sighed, shoulders dropping a fraction before moving closer. They stepped into a dancing hold, eyebrow lifted in silent invitation. It was all Patton could do not to squeal and clap his hands in joy. It wasn’t just winning - although that was always fun - it was that Logan just looked so adorable like this. And they got to dance, to while away the time. 

Patton suddenly froze midstep, Logan stumbling into him. Patton didn’t even notice, his gaze distant, turned inward to something only he could see. Threads were fraying within his mind. They stretched further and further apart but no matter how frantically Patton tried to tug them close, it was impossible to stop the snap. Or the pain that seared through him like fire raging in his forest. He howled without thought, letting the pain flow through him and out into the world. The noise was sharp, a collection of notes that flowed without melody, without song. 

Somewhere above it, he could vaguely make out the sound of Logan’s voice, frantically asking him what was wrong.

“Virgil’s _gone_ ,” Patton wailed. Even as he cried out those words, some part of his mind was reaching out and following familiar paths. The echo that was Virgil’s spirit could still be felt, but it was growing fainter by the second 

“Gone?!”

“He passed the boundaries, he’s left the forest, he’s heading to the human village, the human world. Someone stole him. Someone took our son, Logan!” 

Saying that, made it real in a way the pain somehow hadn’t. Virgil had been stolen, snatched away from his life and the parents who loved him. If there was any irony here, then Patton failed to see it. All he could think about was his son. The shy little smile Virgil would give, the way he lit up Patton’s life in a way the fae hadn’t even realised he needed until he had been given him. Virgil was the most precious gift the forest had ever given him. The trees had always provided, but when it came to Virgil, they had truly outdone themselves.

And now someone had ruined that moment. Had taken their son and Patton could almost see it in his mind’s eye. Virgil had to be so scared, so lost. Dragged away from everything he had known. Patton was his dad, he was meant to protect him from things. Not let him be stolen. And where had Thomas been in all of this? Why hadn’t Thomas stopped it or called them. For that matter, why hadn’t Virgil called for help? 

Had it really been that sudden, that violent, that there had been no time to scream for help? Rage started to blossom within his chest. It was a strange, alien feeling. Patton hadn’t felt such anger and desire to rip humans apart since... since... since the night he had first found Virgil.

Fitting, that such strong emotion should reappear in this moment. 

“Sunlight... we can not say that for sure. Curiosity is a trait shared by fae and human alike. It is entirely possible that Virgil finally became curious enough about his own origins to descend to the village. I am sure that there is... little chance that anything is seriously amiss.” Logan was doing their best to be calming, to point out other possibilities, but Patton was no fool - he could hear the worry in Logan’s voice. As well as the impossibility of their words. As if Virgil would ever do that.

As if Virgil _could_ ever do that. 

Patton shook his head, eyes blinded by the tears that will still spilling over. By this point, he could no longer tell if they were tears of terror or anger. Only that they were painful - and that Logan, dear sweet, wise, funny Logan, was wrong. 

It had taken a couple of centuries but eventually, Logan was wrong. 

“No, no, he wouldn’t. He promised me that he would never go there.” Patton knew he was explaining it badly, but it was hard to explain all the thoughts within his head. Words were tough. Patton knew the truth, but how to explain it? How to make Logan see? It was obvious that Logan didn’t understand, they were still trying to prove their point. 

“As much as it pains me to say it, Virgil is human. He is capable of lying in a way we are not. I am sure he meant his promise when he gave it, but he is able to go back on his word. Our son is good, by far the best human I have ever met. He could be no less with such parents as us. Perhaps he simply forgot that he had promised you?” 

The very idea made Patton gasp in shock and he was surprised at Logan. How could they think so little of their son? 

“No, you don’t understand Loganberry! He can’t willingly go into the village. Even if he somehow forgot - which he didn’t - he physically wouldn’t be able to cross the boundary line. Not of his own desire, something had to override that. Which means he was taken against his will.” 

That seemed to get Logan’s attention. The taller fae froze, eyes darting from side to side as they scanned Patton’s own features, looking for... something. It was the sort of look Patton had seen countless times on his loves face. It was Logan’s way of dealing with things, of processing them and allowing his thoughts to work through to some conclusion. It should have been a reassuring sight, his love finally using that brain of theirs. 

So why did another stone start to form within Patton’s stomach, to go with the one that worried for Virgil’s safety? 

Logan seemed to be struggling with whatever idea they had come to, swallowing a couple of times, their adams apple bobbing up and down in their throat. Patton stared at it, almost transfixed by the motion, by the gentle dip and rise, that let him know Logan was with him. 

“Patton... did you... make a _deal_ with our son?” Words came out stilted, shocked and Patton could feel a blush on his cheeks.

“I... I had no choice,” he explained. “Virgil found out what we did to help him and Thomas. He didn’t like it and he convinced me we had been... hasty, to act like that.”

“Nonsense,” Logan snapped, and it was only at that reaction that Patton realised he had just told Logan they had been wrong a second time. All in the span of one conversation. Add that to the stress of Virgil vanishing and it was no wonder that he looked as unsettled as he did. “We did the correct thing. Thomas would have taken years to bond naturally with Virgil, we merely sped the process up.”

“We took him from his home. Just as the humans took Remy. Just as they had to taken Virgil. It was wrong.”

“... I fail to see what that has to do with why you made a deal with our son.” Logan stepped around the moral issue, as Patton should have realised they would. It would have meant admitting they were perhaps not completely right and that was something Logan always struggled with. It was an issue of the heart over logical rules, and he shouldn’t expect his love to see the problem in the same way Virgil had. Or the way in which Patton had come to see it.

“I told him the truth. That we couldn’t break the bond. Thomas will be with him until he is ready to come to his real home with us.” 

“So?”

“So he didn’t like that Logan. He insisted we make a deal, he used my name just as much I did back. I tried to make it as easy as possible. I was able to loosen the bonds just a fraction, enough for Thomas to occasionally leave and in return Virgil bound himself to the trees. So don’t you see? He couldn’t have left.” It all made perfect sense to Patton and he couldn’t help but feel a mounting sense of frustration. Every second they spent talking about this instead of coming up with a plan to save Virgil was another second that their son was spent scared and a prisoner. He could barely bring himself to think about it. 

“Lolo, please. Virgil needs us.” 

“Patton... very well. We shall discuss this issue later. First though, we have a son to save. Where is Thomas?” Logan raised a very valid point. Patton had thought about the tree spirit for a moment and then he had passed from his mind, too consumed by the worry for Virgil. It wasn’t the right response and Patton couldn’t help but feel shame because of it. He was meant to be better than that, to be a friend to Thomas as well as a parent. 

It was impossible to change the past but there was still the future to consider. Both for Virgil and for Thomas. Patton closed his eyes and focused, feeling for the spirit. Unlike Virgil, he was still within the boundaries of the forest, the threads wrapped around him that tied him to them were still strong and sturdy. There was more than enough for Patton to reach with his own magic and summon him, pulling the boy from wherever he was and to them.

Thomas staggered a little, half falling over before he was able to right himself. The tree spirit didn’t looked injured at all, red eyes darting around the area in confusion.

“What’s goi- wait, where is Vee?” 

“You don’t know what happened?” Patton had been counting on him to have seen it, to know the details. Looking at him now though, it was clear that they had pulled the tree spirit away from his tree. Which meant that he was only now reaching out for that connection with Virgil and finding it incomplete. 

Clever of the humans, to wait until Virgil’s protector wasn’t around before they stuck. Assuming it wasn’t just a coincidence of course, but Patton couldn’t believe they had been that lucky by accident. Of course, that did mean that there had to have been humans watching. Plotting. Planning. They had seen his son and had wanted him. 

It wasn’t that much of a surprise - who wouldn’t want his wonderful Virgil? But it wasn’t a nice thought all the same. The human world had had its chance with him and it had tossed it away. 

“I was resting... the human, I knew he wasn’t to be trusted,” Thomas trailed off, an angry expression on his face. He gave a growl, noise the sound of branches snapping, something ancient that sat oddly with his youthful features. Not that Patton cared about that. All that mattered right now was that he had been right. It had been a human behind it all. A human that Thomas apparently knew all about. 

“A human? Vee had met a human and you didn’t tell us?” Logan’s voice broke into Patton’s swirling thoughts. It was a measure of how badly he was feeling that he hadn’t even noticed his beloved stepping past him. Even slightly behind them, Patton could see the look in their eyes. The expression on their face was devoid of all emotions but Patton knew that was far from the truth. 

“Vee is my friend. He didn’t want you to know, he hoped and believed Princey could be trusted. I wasn’t about to betray his trust.” Thomas could defend himself all he wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that there had been a human near Virgil and Thomas had not protected him. 

“Well this Princey did betray his trust!” Patton couldn’t believe it. Another human that had mistreated his Virgil, another one that failed to see how wonderful he was and instead had used him. Had to have used him because Virgil would have never left on his own accord. At best, he was tricked. At worst, forced. 

“He must have done. Either he did it himself, or he led other humans there. Either way, Virgil is gone and you didn’t protect him!” Patton wasn’t angry at Thomas, not really. The rage he was feeling was directed at the humans that had dared to touch his son - and at himself.

Where had he gone wrong? Virgil had met a human in the forest. And instead of avoiding them and telling his parents, he had kept the existence of the human a secret. He had been intrigued enough by whatever it was this Princey offered him, that he had even kept coming back to see him. Patton didn’t know how long it had been going on, but from the fact that there was any sort of names exchanged told him it had to have been a while.

Patton knew his son. Virgil would never have spoken to someone like that the first few times he had seen them. No matter how much they interested him. In the end though, curiosity had apparently gotten the better of him and for one encounter at least, this Princey had been able to convince Virgil that he was harmless and worth keeping secret. 

He hadn’t been able to trust Patton with this new aspect of his life. Virgil should have been able to tell his dad anything and everything. That had to be a failing on Patton’s part. Somehow, he hadn’t lived up to his desire to be the best dad.

“Worry about such things later,” Logan interjected, apparently able to read his thoughts. Then again, Logan had always had such an ability. “We have Thomas, and each other. I am going to call Remy and the four of us will retrieve Virgil.” 

They clicked their fingers, sound echoing violently around the room. 

“Sup, dewdrop.” Remy sauntered into seconds later, looking utterly relaxed. Patton couldn’t help but feel somewhat jealous of that. It had only been ten or so minutes ago that Patton had been just as carefree, laughing and trying to tempt Logan into having a little bit of fun. It felt as though that had been a lifetime ago. As if it was something Patton was reading about rather than having actually experienced. 

Logan huffed, and there was nothing like family it seemed, to distract you from anything else. Even when the something else was always family.

“Why you insist on using these nicknames, is beyond me. We have true names and nicknames already. There is no need to complicate matters by introducing new ones every time you visit that you then promptly abandon once the day is done. If you must come up with a new nickname for myself or my loves, then that is fine. But you should keep them, rather than waste time and effort looking for new ones.”

Remy’s smile grew wider the longer Logan ranted and as cute as his love was when they got like this, it wasn’t the time. 

“Someone has taken Vee,” Patton blurted out, interrupting Logan while he was still mid flow. It was as though the very air itself froze in place around them. Ice seemed to creep up all the trees and grass, winter stealing its way into a day of summer. Remy’s smile had frozen as well, the fae staring directly at Patton.

“What?”

“He has been taken against his will, humans. A... Princey. He came into the woods and he stole Vee away. And no, Vee didn’t go by choice, trust me, he didn’t.” 

“So, burn the human world then? Yeah, burn the human world.” Remy didn’t seem to need conving further, the ice shattered into dust around them as the smile was replaced by fury. Patton wasn’t a fan of violence, unless the situation really called for it. And it felt as though it did this time. Burning the human world was the best plan that had been said so far, so long as they got Virgil out first. 

“We need a plan, we cannot leave the forest and actively attack humans. Our powers do not work that way,” Logan protested, ever the voice of reason. 

“Oh Loganberry,” Remy purred. He lifted a hand level with his chest, eyes half lidded in apparent concentration. Around them, the very trees themselves started to shudder and shake. Patton didn’t understand what was happening. And this was his forest. Remy’s smile grew, something cold and calculating. Patton almost felt sorry for the humans, because the wrath of one fae was dangerous enough. The wrath of three fae would be too much for any settlement to handle. 

Almost.

They had still taken his son after all. The humans had a good run, but it was time to remove something so dangerous from the world. For the good of everything else. Remy’s eyes flickered over towards Logan. 

“You have got to stop taking things so literal, Lo.”

_Five Years Previously..._

Like most choices in his life, the decision to roam through the forest was a simple whim. He had a hatred of boredom that bordered on the pathological. There was nothing Remy wouldn’t do to avoid being bored. The forest might at first glance not be brimming with entertainment that he was used to, but there was something in the air though. A hint of something different. It drew Remy along the paths and up into the trees.

With the wind in his face, he felt truly free. There was nothing here to worry him or drag him down. Just the thrill of movement, of dancing and bending through the canopy and letting his feet take him where they wanted. 

For a couple of moments, he even managed to forget about being bored or that strange little tug in his soul. Right up until he jumped lightly onto a branch which overhung the edge of a clearing and spotted the child sat there. Remy almost tripped over his own feet, he stopped so suddenly, eyes wide at the sight. 

A human boy, alone in the woods. If Remy had to guess, he would say the child was somewhere around ten. Give or take a decade. He wasn’t good with ages. The kid was older than a baby but not yet an adult. Or that delicious teenage period in between childhood and adulthood, where they were much more entertaining. Remy always enjoyed wrapping his magic around himself like a cloak in order to disguise himself to be one of them. He heard such interesting things.

A lot of it was useless in any real sense of the word. He didn’t know most of the people involved in the stories and would never actually meet them. Such Dave who had been sleeping with both Anne and Katherine but the two had become aware of each other and decided to team up to get their revenge. Remy would have loved to have known how that story ended - but by the time Remy returned to that village, everyone involved would almost certainly be dead or settled down and thus boring. Which to him, was as good as dead. What was the point of a human if they were boring?

The young of humans were interesting, for a brief, wonderful moment. Teenagers were not yet crushed by the mundane reality of their lives. They always thought themselves so special, one of a kind. As if nobody else had ever experienced their pain and suffering. As if they were the first person to ever experience romantic attraction that wasn’t returned. Or to be hurt by someone they considered a friend. As if they were the first to fall in love, to laugh, cry or scream. 

This boy was interesting too. He was sat crossed legged in the grass, his clothes a mess of patchwork. Thick stitching ran across each item of clothing, as though they had all been repaired time and time again. Despite that however, there was an... almost deliberate edge to the purple patches. As if they had been designed to be repaired. If this was what the child wanted, he wouldn’t put it past a human to damage their clothing on purpose, merely to make this statement. 

Whatever the statement was.

A small wooden object was held within his hands, the boy turning it over and over. He seemed fully absorbed in his task, dark hair falling into his eyes as he did. Hair that seemed to almost shimmer with a hint of purple whenever the light caught it. There wasn’t the slightest hint of fear about him and where he sat. If Remy didn’t know better, he would have thought that he wasn’t afraid of the forest. But that was foolish. Every mortal who had any sense, should retain a healthy fear of the forest. It was fae territory, not to mention all the wild animals that liked to roam through it. 

Yet here sat a small boy, alone. Was he stupid? Or was this the ‘different’ that he had felt in his blood, calling to him? Remy needed to know. 

Gracefully, he swung down from the tree branch and landed in the grass a few feet in front of the boy. He made sure to make sound when he did - really, he could have landed without a noise, could have crept up behind the boy and the first time he would even be aware of him was when Remy was whispering in his ear or pressing that carelessly discarded blade against his fragile skin. 

Remy wouldn’t do that to a child. 

The dramatics appeared to go completely unnoticed, his sacrifice unacknowledged. The boy didn’t even look up. Now that Remy was closer, he could tell that the wooden object was a small deer, and that a carving blade lay on the grass beside the boy. The child was talented it seemed. Still, possible an idiot. 

“Hello human,” Remy whispered, watching him curiously. There was another moment of silence, of being ignored, before the boy carefully placed the deer statue next to the knife and lifted his head in order to meet his gaze.

Did humans often have purple eyes? They seemed to shine in the golden glow of the setting sun. They were bright and they spoke of intelligence. Something Remy couldn’t help but doubt - the boy had a knife and yet he didn’t try and grab it. A stone knife and that - that was even stranger. He came into the woods but he didn’t protect himself with iron? Perhaps he thought to do so would be considered an act of war. Simply being where he didn’t belong was an act of war in a way, and yet the boy didn’t appear concerned by his sudden appearance. 

“Hello Mr. Fae.”

Another confusing reaction. The boy wasn’t surprised by the sight of him, he knew instantly what he was and yet remained as relaxed as ever. This wasn’t going the way he thought he would, the way that Remy expected. 

Excellent. 

This wasn’t boring. He smiled, something bright and almost innocent. The smile of a fae that had found a new game that it wanted to enjoy, no matter the cost. Mostly because the cost was so rarely paid by them.

Remy wasn’t like most fae. He didn’t want to own humans. He liked to play of course, he liked to tease and dance with them, but he shied away from any actual deals. From getting close enough to form any connection, good or bad. Still, he was curious. The curse of his kind. This human was odd. So very odd and he wanted to know if there was more going on here than at first glance. Oh, how he hoped so. Which meant it was time to be bold. 

“It’s rude babes, not to introduce yourself. Can I have your name?”

The boy looked amused now. Still not scared. Why wasn’t he scared? Remy was a fae! He could be intimidating if he wanted to be. He was the creature in the dark, here to steal away your soul. Well, not today, but the human had no way of knowing that. He didn’t seem at all put out by the question, climbing to his feet and dusting himself down before eventually answering the question. 

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours... no? You may call me Star I suppose. It’s what my dad’s like to call me. Names are currency, as I’m sure you are aware.”

Remy couldn’t help it. He threw back his head and laughed, sound light and honest. He had asked humans for their names countless times over his lifespan. Some had been foolish enough to give it outright. Others had blustered, had tried to trick him. Still more had paled upon the realization that he was after their name. None had gone so far as to actually point out the dangers of giving away a name so carelessly. 

This little one was bold as brass. Whoever his parents were, they had taught him well. But not quite well enough because he was still talking to a fae. 

His bravery would be his undoing. It was almost a shame. Remy liked a bold human, he liked the spark of fire within them. Possibly because it was such a fleeting thing, just like the humans themselves. Or maybe it was because fae were moths to the light, drawn to the fire no matter what. Star was lucky that it was Remy who had found him. 

There were any number of fae that would have taken his words as a personal challenge. They would have become determined to crush him. Even if Star escaped the first encounter, they would find him again and again, until he was theirs. All because he had shown a little bravado at the start. Someone should really warn him about things like that. Whoever it was, it wouldn’t be Remy. He was entertained by the boy, but he couldn’t feel invested in him. Not when he would be aged beyond recognition the next time Remy came by. 

“My dad’s will be here soon,” Star told him. Was that supposed to scare him? So what if more humans were coming this way? If anything, it would be a problem for Star, not for him. More humans meant more weakness, more chance that one of them would get too caught up in their own emotions. Fear for their son, fear for his dads, any of them could break under that kind of pressure. 

Or was it just that mortal thing, the childish and amusing belief that a parent could protect against anything? 

There was something about the way that Star said it though that made him pause for a moment, hip ever so slightly at an angle, giving him a casual pose that was anything but. Remy rested a hand against his side, watching the boy through half lidded eyes as he considered the words. That assurance was there, the word had been spoken with a quiet confidence. As though he thought everything would be fixed and safe once his parents arrived. But it wasn’t quite right. Remy had heard countless people say someone else was coming who would protect them - it had always been spoken with a quiver of fear.

Throughout the whole conversation, Star hadn’t been afraid. He still wasn’t afraid, and that meant he wasn’t thinking about needing any protection. It was something else, something... other. Something that made him start to wonder if there really was more to this boy than he had first assumed. Remy couldn’t afford to show weakness and let the boy know that his words had made something within him sit up and take notice. 

“More mortals to play with, how delightful,” Remy said in a breezy tone of voice. He was curious to see these fathers, to see what sort of parents had made a child like Star. All he had to do was think of a way to then get out of the conversation without losing face. 

Just because he had no desire to hurt or play with the family, that didn’t mean that he could let them go away thinking that. He and his kind had a reputation to uphold after all. 

“Oh Mr. Fae. They are many things, my dads. But not playthings. Or mortal for that matter,” Star replied, shaking his head so that the dark purple fringe fell even further into his eyes. “In fact, I think they will be here in a second.”

Not... mortal?

His ears popped, the air pressure changing. For the briefest second, it felt as though the air in his lungs had become as heavy as cursed iron, weighing him down and stopping him from breathing. Remy had felt such things before, he knew how to ride the wave. He knew what it meant as well, another fae warping the world around them in order to move. Star didn’t so much as blink. He had to feel the change as well, but it was almost as though... it was as though he was as used to it as Remy was. As if he knew fae better than any human should.

The answers were all there in front of him. Everything Remy had been wondering was there but he just lacked the time to put them all together and understand. Not when the air rushed back into the clearing with a great rush of power, letting him breathe easily once more. Reality shifted, the world splitting apart slightly as more fae invaded the clearing. 

“Son!” The boy suddenly vanished into the arms of Patton, the fae gathering Star up into his arms and squeezing him enthusiastically. From somewhere against his chest, Remy could just make out Star’s arms as the boy flailed in the grip. It didn’t appear to be a painful attack or a violent struggle and... what had Patton called him?

There wasn’t time for Remy to take any other details in, because at once his vision was filled by the approaching figure of Logan. The second fae could move faster than most when he wanted too, almost darting across the clearlign and blocking everything else from his view. 

“I swear, if you’ve touched a hair on his head, I will end you,” Logan seethed. They actually looked threatening for once - it was actually kind of funny, if he stopped to think about it. Not that Remy had chance to think. Here was his not quite family member threatening his life on behalf of a human. One who had managed to wiggle a little free from the not an attack hug in order to call out. 

“It’s fine father. I’m fine, honest. The fae hadn’t got that far, I called for you as soon as I heard him coming, there wasn’t time. I remembered what you taught me.” 

There was so much going on here for Remy to process. So much delicious, juicy gossip and oh, he thought nothing ever happened with their kind. He had thought he would have to go to the human world in order to make some shallow connections if he wanted some entertainment and yet here was something so much bigger and better than anything they could come up with. 

His little Logan had managed to find themselves a human pet slash son, as well as a forever love. He was almost jealous. 

“So this is where you two have been hiding! And you have a son,” Remy purred, the smile stretching further on his lips. Logan still looked furious but the moment of actual intimidation passed as quickly as it arrived - Remy could never stay afraid of Logan. He knew too much about the other fae to ever fear them, he had seen too much. 

With a giggle, Remy waved at Star. The purple haired boy actually waved back, now standing on his own two feet once more. Patton frowned and stepped in between them both, a worried expression on his face. How very insulting of Patton. 

Spoilsport. 

“Come on, I’m not going to harm him. Not if he’s yours. I’m hurt babes, I thought you two knew me better than that! I wouldn’t play with my own. Although I need to know how you managed to get yourself a human kid of all things. And you’ve been keeping him all this time? I did wonder where my favorite fae had run off too.” 

Star was watching the conversation with interest, his eyes sharp. As sharp as his ears had to be, if he really had heard Remy coming. A human shouldn’t have been able to hear him and that was something Remy was going to have to think about - but not right now, not when he was so happy and excited. 

“Is he safe?” Star asked, hand flying up in the direction of Patton as he added, “For a fae, obviously, I know dad, I know,” The words cut Patton off before he could start a lecture he had obviously given so many times before. 

“I’m perfect safe! We’re family Star! Your father is my... well, your father is mine in a way that is different to how they are your dads or yous.” 

“Cool,” Star replied simply, barely batting an eyelid. 

“You can call me Uncle Sleep.” Remy was positively giddy at this turn of events. A new family member! A whole new range of games, and someone to spoil. Someone to teach. The boy was brave but he needed to learn the subtlety of their race if he was going to stay around. Remy found himself hoping that this was going to last a little longer. It would be nice to see a human more than once. Especially one as cute and connected as this one was. 

Why had he never thought to do this himself? Aside from the whole having to actually keep a human healthy, fed, free, and all round intact of course. It sounded exhausting and there was a reason why he had never bothered to get any sort of pet before. 

“No, he cannot,” Logan said with the same tone they had used when the pair of them had been children, Logan forever telling Remy off for one thing or another. He was too used to it for the disdain and disapproval to have any effect on Remy now. His grin somehow grew brighter, aiming it directly at Logan.

“Yes he can!” Remy chirped back, unrepentant as always. Oh, he had so many plans, so much he wanted to do. He had never had a nephew before to spoil. This was going to be the best thing ever.

Patton and Logan exchanged a glance. Remy had spent enough time around the two of them to know when they were having a silent conversation with their eyes and facial expressions alone. He hadn’t - thankfully - spent enough time with them to understand. 

“Star, could you give us a moment?” Patton asked. It was the sort of tone that made a question not really a question at all. Remy recognized it and it seemed as though Star recognized it as well, the boy giving a soft little sigh. 

“Sure dad.... I’ll be at the pond when you’ve finished being mysterious fae. It was nice to meet you Uncle Sleep.” Star even had the nerve to stick his tongue out at Remy as he lifted two fingers against his forehead in a farewell salute. 

No need to wonder if this was real or not. There was no way either of them could carry on this kind of game for as long as they seemed to have done. No way they could fake the fond smiles on their faces as Star made his way out of the clearing and vanished between the trees. 

They loved the boy, and for all his teasing, Star very clearly loved them back. Which made the worry suddenly gnawing in Remy’s chest all the more intense. 

Why were they so stupid? So naive? Patton he could almost understand. Patton always saw the best in other fae - he rationalised and explained away their games as the fault of others and never their own darker urges. It would get him into trouble one of these days. But Logan? Logan should know better. They knew how dangerous life could be, and they had to realise such a danger would be so much more pronounced for a human. 

Exactly how much, Remy wasn’t sure. Then again, he had never bothered to try and work that sort of thing out before now. And he wasn’t going to. That was the sort of thing that Logan loved to do. Let them work it out. 

The smile dropped away from his features as he stood there, hands on his hips in a manner reminiscent of a lecturing parent. It was a look he had seen his own parents wear so many times when he had been a little sproglet. 

It had never worked on him, he was immune. But Logan had never really had the look directed at them before. They had been the good kid. Which meant, Remy hoped that it would be super effective now. 

“You’re lucky babes it was me,” he snapped, cutting in before either of them could say whatever it was they had sent Star away to say. The fae suddenly felt old and tired. So tired, just as his nickname suggested. A nice decade long nap sounded good right about now except he had a nephew which meant he had responsibilities and stuff. Ugh. Maybe there were some downsides to Star after all. 

“What are you talking about Rem?” Logan had the nerve to look confused, as if they still hadn’t put the pieces together. Remy refused to believe their Logan was as stupid as that. 

“You know what I mean Lo-Lo. The kid was alone. Sure, he was smart and he was charming but I saw that as a challenge. Imagine how others might see it. You might want to be more careful sugars. He needs a friend. Unless you plan to keep him in your sight twenty four seven?” 

“Our Star is reaching the age where... he no longer desires to spend every waking moment with his parents,” Logan admitted, expression shifting into one of chagrin. 

“Aww, kiddo trying to learn how to fly the nest already? Mortals grow up so fast you know.” Remy kept his voice light and teasing. It was just his way, even when he was speaking of something of the utmost importance. Star would grow old and die. Before that though, it seemed as if Remy had been wrong about his age. A teenager after all, but clearly a young one, younger than the sort he normally knew. Old enough to want some independence at least. 

“We could try and keep him home...” Logan suggested slowly. Remy shook his head at once in disagreement.

“He’ll resent that after a while. Trust me.” 

Remy knew what it was like not to be free. He had been foolish when he had been young, had given his name away and spent what felt like an eternity under the thumb of a human before their arrogance had finally cost them dearly. It was the main reason why he kept his distance from all of the mortals now. If he closed his dark eyes, Remy could throw himself back into that terrible time, could feel the chains wrapped around his limbs and the weight that every order brought. The terrible way in which the mortal had spoken his name, how it had relished in the power Remy had so carelessly given them. There was no way that he could let that happen to Star.

“Don’t worry, it’s obvious he adores you both,” Remy added, aware of the sudden silence. The guilt that flooded the clearing was so vivid he could almost taste it, the emotions radiating from the pair of them as they no doubt realised what they had unwittingly suggested. 

“You really think so?” To Remy’s surprise, it was still Logan who was talking. Logan who clearly cared more for the boy than Remy had first thought. Yes, he had known that they were fond of him, he had seen the expression on their face when they wanted to protect him and later when they had watched Star leave. Even still, he had underestimated Logan’s feelings for the boy. Remy wouldn’t make that mistake again. 

“Trust me, I’m a fae. The kid is yours and what is more, he wants to be. Let him have his freedom but maybe get him a friend who can also protect him. Better that than he call you and it takes a second too long for you to get there one time. It only takes a single time.” 

“You might have a point,” Logan said slowly. Remy preened, hiding his surprise as best he could. Logan rarely admitted that Remy said or did anything right - in fact, had he ever?

“I always do darling, I always do.” 

_Present Day..._

The path back to the village was one Roman had travelled countless times over the years. It was as familiar as the village itself and yet this time he looked at it with new eyes. Because this time he was travelling it with Virgil. Who had not only agreed to come and visit his home, but had also shyly agreed to be his boyfriend. 

Being in love was just the _best_.

He wanted to sing his heart out. Wanted every single plant to know how much he loved the boy who was walking beside him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the way Virgil was looking around, taking everything in with a wide eyed wonder. It was as though the world was brand new and everything old was imbued with magic. 

“Hey Princey?”

“Yes Virgil?”

The soft intake of breath and way Virgil seemed to almost shudder with delight was one hundred percent going on the list of things that he loved about his love. Heh. He had a love now. A love that he was able to love, because he had told his love that he... okay, that he liked him. Roman hadn’t gotten as brave as to actually say love, but he was working up to it.

Except right now he had thought the L word so much that saying it would just sound all wrong and weird. 

“When we’re around... other humans... could you not...” Virgil trailed off, his teeth catching at his bottom lip, chewing on it nervously. They had stopped in the middle of the path, the smoke from the village coming up over the final gentle rise and letting Roman know they had almost made it back. All they had to do was go around the corner and they would pass through the boundaries of the village. 

“Not use your actual name?” Roman guessed. Virgil nodded, his shoulders slumping in relief. Really, Roman should have said he wouldn’t before now. It was obvious that hearing his name was still a great oddity to Virgil. As much as Roman enjoyed the reaction he got when he said it, the last thing he wanted was to make Virgil uncomfortable. Living with fae and being so paranoid, so scared about your name, it was still a wonder that he had trusted him at all with it. Roman was determined to be worthy of that trust. 

“I can’t call you Star though...”

“You could use Vee,” Virgil suggested. Roman lifted their joined hands, brushing the lightest kiss against his knuckles. It would have taken a much stronger man than Roman not to gain a small measure of satisfaction from sharp intake of breath and blush that was his response. 

“Of course. Vee, my love, my only. Come on, we’re almost there. You ready?”

It was probably Roman’s imagination, but he could have sworn that Virgil muttered a super soft ‘no’ as they started moving once more, around the corner and into the village proper. 

There were only a few people out at this time of day, the afternoon drawing to a close. They were milling around without any real purpose. Just enjoying the fresh air. It was the perfect way to introduce Virgil to some of the people. Let him see them going about their business.

It didn’t take long however for Roman to realise that something seemed off. Wrong. 

Roman couldn’t understand the looks everyone was giving them. Yes, Virgil was beautiful. Pale and stunning, he would have stood out anywhere he went. But they weren’t staring at him as though he was someone beautiful. The looks were more... restrained than that. A mix of curiosity, fear and... greed? Were they jealous of his love? Or maybe they were suspicious because he was a stranger and they were that small minded that they feared him for that reason alone? None of them wanted to talk to him.

A few even caught his eye and then moved to actively avoid them, stepping away so that Roman couldn’t speak to them. 

Virgil shrunk further against him, and Roman could feel his self righteous anger grow. How dare they make his love so uncomfortable? Yes, he was a stranger, but that was no excuse for their behaviour. 

“There... there are so many buildings. So many people...” Virgil sounded rather faint, almost strained. 

Of course, of course. Virgil had come from the forest and while he said he had parents, Roman had only ever seen him with the red eyed boy. This had to be completely overwhelming for him. Maybe it was actually a good thing that the rest of the village were being judgemental jerks and he could question them as to why they were behaving so oddly later. Making sure Virgil was comforted and safe was the more important thing.

“Come on, let’s go to my home,” he murmured. Roman didn’t let go of his hand as they moved - and Virgil clung back just as tightly. It was a reassurance, a steady heat that let Roman know this was real and actually happening. Not exactly how he had imagined it true, but it was still happening and there was plenty of time for it to improve. 

Improve it would because Roman was determined that Virgil was going to have a brilliant time here. Enough that he would want to visit again and again. That maybe he might even stay here one day. 

Too far ahead. As always, he was thinking way too far ahead. He already knew that this was it, that Virgil was the one for him. There would never be another. Was it too much to hope that Virgil felt something like that back? That he would one day choose to stay? 

If Roman ever had a chance of that happening then he had to make sure that this place was as welcoming as possible to Virgil. He had to make his home somewhere that Virgil could want to call his own. The altative was living with Virgil in the forest of course, but he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to do that. Or if the fae would let him. 

Surely it would be better for Virgil to come here?

Assuming people stopped being so weird about it. Any hope that Roman might have cherished that his dad would be normal was shattered the moment he saw the other man’s face. Wearing that same expression as all the others. 

“Son... I heard you’d come back with... a friend.”

“Father,” Roman replied carefully and for some strange reason he didn’t like the way his dad was looking at Virgil. There was an odd, almost calculating expression on his face, one that made Roman want to stand in front of Virgil and block him from view. Which was... ridiculous, surely. 

“I want you to meet Vee.”

“Vee eh? How on earth did you capture the attention of such... of such a one as him?” The knowing look in Dad’s eyes was driving Roman up the wall. He didn’t understand what he was subtly getting at, what secret conversation he thought the two of them were having with their eyes but it was making his skin crawl a little. 

“Oh you know. My amazing voice,” Roman offered, giving Virgil a bright smile as he spoke. Virgil smiled back, something more subdued than his own but that was just the sort of smile that his love tended to give. It didn’t slip Roman’s notice however that his dad wasn’t smiling back in any real way. It was... oily, that smile. The one he had seen his dad give to traders who thought that a village out in the middle of nowhere would be easy pickings for their scams but had ended up tricked themselves. Why would Dad look at Virgil like that?

There was something here, something he really needed to question him about to find out. But that would mean leaving Virgil’s side and that wasn’t something he was willing to do right now. There would be plenty of time later to work out what was going on. 

Instead, Roman mumbled some excuse, the reason slipping his mind almost as soon as he said the words. Whatever it was, it had the desired effect, Dad letting the two of them move further into the house and up the stairs to where Roman’s own room was. 

Roman couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him, shutting his dad out and leaving the two of them alone once more. Virgil matched him, his whole body sagging and Roman couldn’t even begin to imagine how stressful that had been. He was really dreading meeting Virgil’s parents.

True, Virgil’s parents could kill him and were maybe a little bit more threatening that Roman’s dad but that didn’t change the fact that they were parents. And that he really wanted them to at least like him - hopefully love and approve of him, but he would settle for like to start with. 

He couldn’t tell if Dad had liked Virgil or not. The look had seemed a more magnified one of the weird ones all the villagers were giving. 

What did everyone know - or think they knew - that he didn’t? It was almost enough to make him march back out there and demand answers. 

“Sorry about him.” Roman told Virgil instead of doing that. He gave his boyfriend another smile as he spoke, as inwardly giddy as ever to be able to use that title. It was highly doubtful that Roman was getting over the joy of that anytime soon. Or ever. 

“That was... yeah.” Virgil was blushing again. Roman might not be able to see his face now he was ducking his head, but the very tips of his ears were red. It shouldn’t be as cute as it was. Especially since Roman knew that Virgil was blushing because he didn’t want to admit his no doubt less than complimentary thoughts about his dad. 

After the weird way in which Dad had behaved however, Roman could hardly blame him. 

“Anyway, forget about him. Come sit down Vee.” 

“You can use my actual name when we’re alone. I kinda... like you saying it.” Virgil was still avoiding eye contact and Roman wasn’t sure if it was because he was still embarrassed or some other reason. Roman didn’t like the idea of him still feeling like that - no matter how cute the blushing was - but the thought of some other reason was even worse. What could it be? Guilt? Pressure? Was he accidentally pressuring him into letting him say it?

Or maybe it was more simple than his thoughts were leading him to believe. Maybe it was just the fact that a name was such a precious... intimate thing, for anyone raised fae. And Virgil more than trusted him with it, Virgil was asking him to say it.

Roman reached out, clasping Virgil’s hand. The fingers were cooler than his own, but the other boy gripped back just as tightly, eagerly welcoming the hold. The contact made Roman feel bold, brave. As if all the magic of the world was wrapped up in that little touch. Strong enough to cup Virgil’s cheek with his other hand, coaxing his face upwards to whisper four little words;

“I love you, Virgil.”

From the sharp intake of breath and the way Virgil avoided his eyes, it was clearly the wrong thing to say. Of course it was the wrong thing to say. They had only just started dating, this was all so new to them both and he was going to ruin it by blurting out such grand and all encompassing things like that. Especially since Virgil hadn’t said the words back. Roman wasn’t usually so nervous, so prone to overthinking and letting his thoughts twist over themselves but then he had never come across anyone as important as his love before now. 

No matter what happened, Roman knew he would love Virgil still. Quite possibly for the rest of his life, because with every passing second, he struggled more and more to imagine his life without Virgil there. Roman hurried on, trying to fix his mistake as best he could. This wasn’t how he meant to admit his feelings.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to say it. I know, its sudden, what was I thinking? We’re still getting to know each other and then I drop that on you and wow, I didn’t mean to come out with such a strong thing. I didn’t mean... I did. But I did’”

“My parents are in love.” Virgil’s voice was soft but it managed to cut through Roman’s increasingly frantic ramblings without any real effort. The purple eyed boy was meeting his gaze again, expression guarded true, but there was a warmth there that let Roman hope not everything was lost.

Even if he didn’t quite understand what Virgil’s parents had to do with his own declaration. 

“Dad is always telling Father how much he feels and how he adores Father, who is less... able to express themselves as they would maybe want. I think I take more after Father in that respect,” Virgil explained, still staring into his eyes, almost as though he was trying to convey something important with his blinking alone. 

“But he... still loves your dad?” Roman asked slowly, cautiously feeling his way around the words. Was that Virgil’s way of trying to say it without it being said? His hopes were dashed when Virgil shook his head, Roman trying not to let the heartbreak he was feeling spread across his face. 

“Father isn’t a he. They don’t use those words. It’s they or them okay? But... yes. They do. Very much so. They just don’t often feel comfortable enough to say it. It’s... more an understood thing.”

Roman considered the words carefully. Both the news that Virgil’s father chose to go by those pronouns which was fascinating but not the most important thing which had to be the concept of an understood thing. He smiled, a dizzying wave of relief sweeping through him at the knowledge that he hadn’t ruined this with his impulsiveness. 

“I can work with that.”

\---

“Son! You have to release the fae!”

Words jolted Roman out of his sleep, the boy shifting into something approaching wakefulness. He wasn’t much of a morning person and he really wasn’t one for being so rudely awoken. It took a little while for his brain to start working at its proper speed. So much so that Roman couldn’t do anything but blink slowly. Beside him, he could feel Virgil, his love pressed against him, face pressed against his shirt. They had apparently fallen asleep on his bed, part way through a conversation. The pair of them had talked for hours about everything and anything. It had been wonderful. They had discussed so much and every little nugget of knowledge he had learnt about Virgil just reinforced his feelings for him. 

There hadn’t even been time to get changed, or find a blanket but it seemed unimportant. They had fallen asleep together, cuddled close and that was the only thing that mattered. 

Now he had been rudely awakened, his mind still too fragmented by those conversations to understand what was going on. His dad continued to rant, arms lifting and falling in a series of dramatic gestures that Roman recognized only too well from the mirror. So it was his dad, that he got those tendencies from. 

“I don’t care how you did it and I don’t care about your excuses. Release it before you bring down the full wrath of its kind upon our home!”

Roman might be still mostly asleep but he knew one thing was very wrong with what his dad was saying. Okay two things, and there was an added moment of silence while he tried to work out which was the most important thing to argue about. Calling Virgil an ‘it’ - or completely missing the point of what he actually was. Any point Dad might have been trying to make was lost in the self righteous fury of those two thoughts and how Virgil was still pressed against him, breathing shallow and soft. As though afraid to so much as breathe too loudly in case Dad might turn his anger against him. 

“He’s not fae!”

“Oh R- son, don’t be so foolish!” The vein in his dad’s forehead was throbbing. Roman stared at it, unable to focus on anything else. That really was going hard, pulsing with apparent rage. Why was he so angry? Roman didn’t think he had ever seen him this furious before and it couldn’t just be because Roman had dared to argue back. They fought more often than Roman was willing to admit and he had never acted like this before. 

“Your feeble excuses aren’t fooling anyone son!” 

“Why won’t you say my name?” Roman asked, still unable to focus on the overall topic and instead sticking to smaller and more manageable issues. What time was it? The world outside his window looked grey and overcast. It had to be early, way too early for anyone to be awake at all, let alone carrying on with any serious conversation. 

His dad rolled his eyes before closing them for a moment. He took a series of deep breaths, Roman just watching in fascination. 

“Because it’s listening of course. I’m trying to save you as well as this village so swallow your stupid pride and let it go before it’s too late! Look outside if you still don’t believe me! I won’t let this doom befall our people, and if you want to be a leader, neither should you. Capturing a fae could be useful but you obviously picked the wrong one.” 

It was impossible to listen to this any longer. Roman climbed out of the bed, giving Virgil’s hand one last reassuring squeeze. He felt as though he was finally waking up, although there was still a lot about his dad’s words that he couldn’t quite understand. It was as though they were in separate rooms, shouting completely separate conversations at each other and just taking whatever random answer they got back as a real response.

“You think... I stole Vee?” Roman asked and just saying the words aloud made him feel sick to his stomach. As if he could ever hurt Virgil, could force him to stay against his will. As much as Roman hoped that he could one day be blessed with the man by his side every day, he would never ever dream of keeping him where he didn’t want to go. He couldn’t focus on anything else, no matter how badly his dad was trying to get his point across. 

It was the wrong point, if it meant that he believed either Roman was capable of such villainy or that Virgil could ever be held against his will. 

“I didn’t steal him!” Roman protested and he wanted to scream those words from the top of every building. He wanted them emblazoned over the doorframe of every building. It wasn’t enough to say them once. They had to be said over and over again until it was believed. What sort of family were they, that it could be a possibility? 

Was that why everyone had been behaving so strangely? Had they all thought he was capable of the deed? Did they look at Virgil and see a prisoner instead of his love? Roman felt as though his heart was trying to burst out of his chest, as if the organ was clawing its way free in order to express its rage at such a slur upon his honour. 

He wished there was a way to look inside someone’s heart. A manner that his thoughts and feelings could be lad bare without any doubt as to their meaning. So that the whole village might see the truth. More importantly, so that Virgil could see the truth. What if he thought that was Roman’s plan? His purple haired love was still pressed against him, breathing as rapid as before but there was no telling how long he might remain there before pulling away. And breaking both their hearts.

“Vi... I really need to talk to Vee, Dad. Can you give us some privacy?” Roman asked, inwardly proud of the way in which his voice didn’t so much as quiver, and how he had avoided using the real name. He had to see his love’s eyes, he had to reassure himself that everything was going to be alright. So that he could then reassure Virgil in turn. 

“There is no time!” 

His dad grabbed his arm, dragging him away from the bed and towards the window, ignoring the yelp of protest from Roman. Slightly behind him, Roman could see Virgil’s purple hair in the very corner of his eye as the other followed them both. There was no time to do anything but let Dad manhandle him, not when the window was suddenly there. With a grunt, Dad let go of his arm, pointing out over the rooftops.

Roman gaped as he stared out over a familiar landscape that had somehow become utterly alien overnight. 

The forest had come to the village.

A hillside that last night had been devoid of trees was now littered with them and perhaps it was just Roman’s admittedly overactive imagination but they looked very menacing indeed. Despite it being summer, many of the branches were shorn of leaves, as if a storm had ripped through them. Or, as though the pressure from uprooting themselves and moving was enough to rip them apart.

The barn at the far end of the village was half crushed by wood. A whole wall pulled away, bricks littering the ground. Some of the buildings nearest it were also under threat, one house even had a tree branch twisted through a window. 

This was so much more just than the forest coming to the village.

It had arrived. And it was angry.


	4. Chapter 4

_Fourteen Years Previously..._

This was the strangest night of his very short life.

It had started out normally enough. His dad had gotten drunk before the sun had even set, crying into his cups about losing his wife and being left with a filthy changeling instead of the normal child he had wanted. His dad didn’t know what he had done to deserve such a thing, to be given this skinny imp of a creature in place of his actual flesh and blood.

He often wondered about that. About the real son that his dad was meant to have. He hoped he was happy, wherever he was. He had heard all the stories, he knew he was swapped and that had to mean there was another him somewhere. A better him. Who wouldn’t anger his dad so much that he had to yell at him, that he would be forced to hit him sometimes. The real son wouldn’t make his dad scream with rage and throw things. He wouldn’t let things be broken.

He certainly wouldn’t be cowardly enough to run. There had been no plan in his mind when he had darted out of the house as fast as his tiny legs would carry him. He knew there was nowhere to go, nowhere that would want him.

Maybe the forest would want him. Even his forest parents had given him away but they might want him now. He was big now. He was old, old enough to fetch the bottles when his dad wanted them. Old enough to pull a blanket over his dad when he fell asleep on the floor, still mumbling threats and curses. It was no more than he deserved, he knew that. It only proved that there was something wrong with him, that despite knowing he was a monster, he still found himself wishing he could be more.

Which led him into the woods, fleeing from his dad who had drunk more than usual. He didn’t know what had happened in the village to make his dad so angry - he wasn’t allowed into the village, his dad said they didn’t want to see him and he would be doing them all a favour by keeping himself hidden away. Despite everything, he did want to be good. He wanted to help. 

Another reason why he had chosen the dark of the woods over the light of the other village buildings. He didn’t want to scare them, he just wanted a moment of safety. To not hear his own gasps and muffled sobs echoing around the area, to not feel every branch he stepped on. The little boy didn’t really have any plan as he moved deeper and deeper into the trees. 

But he certainly hadn’t expected to actually meet a fae. He hadn’t even realised that he had entered the pretty ones circle at first. All he could do was stare in wonder at the man. He was tall and beautiful, with stars in his hair. He smiled and it made the little boy want to smile back, made him want to forget all the fear and pain that had led him to this moment. There was peace here, that he didn’t quite understand but never wanted to let go.

Everything else passed in something of a blur for the little boy. The questions were answered as honest as he could, even if they didn’t always seem to be the ones that Mr. Fae wanted to hear. That was something else he was used to. 

Mr. Fae wanted something from him. He didn’t really understand the details but that was okay. That was normal. He wanted to give the thing, but brat didn’t count. His dad always called him brat. Well, he called him other things too, other names that even he had known were not nice words. But brat had been the most common one. 

And then - 

Virgil. 

Mentally, he repeated the word over and over in his mind, trying to learn the sounds, to teach himself the unfamiliar word. 

He had a name now.

The pretty fae had given him it, had offered him warmth and safety. He had promised that Virgil would be safe and all he had to do was repeat the name back, to say that it was his own. From no name to one that sounded almost as pretty as the fae did himself. It was so easy to take the name that was offered to him, to smile brightly up at the tall fae and offer it back.

His dad had told him never to trust the fae 

His dad said a lot of things. Most of them weren’t very nice. 

His dad had said he was fae. How could he be now that he had seen a real one? Mr Fae was beautiful, he glowed and shimmered. He spoke and it felt as if every hair on his body was alive, as if each word was a warm blanket that he could just sink into and let all the fear leave. Maybe forever.

Mr Fae had given him a name and no matter how many times he reminded himself of that, it was still a little bit of a shock. Nobody had ever cared for him like that before.

It almost made up for the fact that his dad was now in the clearing. Virgil could feel his legs shaking, staring across at the other man. He looked so angry. Virgil had never seen him so angry, and he had thought that this evening was the worst he could get but this was an even greater level. He was going to drag him home, he was going to hurt him and then Virgil as never going to see the pretty fae again. He was never going to hear his name again because there was no way his dad would say it.

“Call me dad, kiddo.”

The words were as warm and as inviting as before, slicing through the fear and making him feel safe once more. Dad? Did that mean... was he a changeling after all? Was this his dad? Did he want him back at long last? Could Virgil have a family at last? Would he stop being such a disappointment? Would the beatings stop?

There were so many questions burning in his mind, so many things he wanted to say. Even in his head they all tumbled over each other, falling in a mess like he would whenever his dad drank too much and accidentally hit him. It was an accident. It was always an accident. His dad said so. He never meant to hit him, he never meant to touch him at all. Because he was dirty and wrong. He wasn’t worth a touch. That was why he normally would beat him with an object, to protect himself.

Most of the time at least. 

Virgil didn’t want to think about that anymore. He hugged himself tighter, fingers brushing over the bones that stuck out his sides. Those were further proof that he wasn’t normal. His dad didn’t have bones trailing down either side, his skin didn’t dip in between them like a thin blanket thrown over odd objects. He wasn’t normal. Maybe for the first time that would be okay because the fae actually wanted him back and they weren’t normal either.

Mr Fae seemed to glide towards his dad. Or was it his fae dad now? His new dad and his old dad. Surely his old dad should be happy about this? He was finally getting rid of Virgil, just as he had always wanted and who knew, he might even get his real son back. Virgil couldn’t help but wonder what the pretty fae was going to say. How was he going to explain all of this? 

With a stumbling motion, Virgil took a step forward. Closer was dangerous because his dad might want to hurt him again but it was important that he learn how his fae dad was going to sort all this out. Which meant he had to listen to what they were going to say and nobody had said he wasn’t allowed to. 

A hand settled on his shoulder, the unexpected touch making him flinch and jolt away from it more out of instinct than anything else. Any sort of touch was bad. The hand followed. Hot and heavy, yet it didn’t move with anger. It didn’t hit him or drag him back into his original position. Instead it almost seemed to be supporting him, stopping him from tumbling over yet again. That support was enough to make him stop trying to run and instead timidly look to his side.

Another fae stood beside him. His expression was stern, almost intimidating. Expect the look didn’t seem to be aimed at Virgil. That alone let him breathe a little easier. It gave him the courage to examine the new fae closer. He was so pretty too. His eyes glowed a darker shade of blue than his new dad. He was taller, so much taller and Virgil didn’t know a lot about - well anything.

But he was stuck by the very odd thought that he bet this fae did. There was something about his expression that spoke to wisdom, that made Virgil think he could ask him anything in the world and the fae would know the answer.

“They/Them,” the fae instructed. Virgil blinked a couple of times, everything else momentarily forgotten.

“What?”

“I’m not a he. They or them little star. Call me Lo.”

Virgil’s eyes grew wider as he turned those words over in his mind, trying to understand them as best he could. How had the new fae known he had been thinking that? That he had called him a he in his head? More to the point, how had he - no, they - known to come here? Had they been listening? How had they learnt that they were a ‘they’ to start with? Virgil had never met a they before. This fae had to be super smart in order to learn such an important but confusing thing. 

“You... you can be that? That is so smart,” Virgil gasped, staring at him with amazement. 

“You can be anything you wish.” Lo replied. There was a hint of a smile on their face, something amused in the expression. It wasn’t as warm as his new dad’s smile, Virgil decided. It didn’t make him want to forget all the horrors that had come before. It didn’t make him want to fling himself into this fae’s arms. That one just made him curious 

It was still a good smile. It was better than the ones his dad would give him when he demanded Virgil go and fetch his belt or his shoe. Or the smile he would have on his face when he finished his meal and casually told his son that there would be no food for him tonight because changelings didn’t need to eat as often as he did. Virgil always wanted to cry when he saw one of those smiles and he knew that wasn’t the right reaction to a smile but there hadn’t been anything else to compare it to. Until now.

A scream ripped through the quiet of the night, making Virgil gasp a little from the intensity of the noise. There was no safety here. Virgil could feel himself shaking once more and his eyes were drawn to the terrified face of his dad. His old dad. He suddenly looked so small, so weak. Cowering in front of his fae dad, blood streaming down his face. When had his dad gotten hurt? That wasn’t right.

Maybe he was supposed to be glad that he was scared. Hadn’t he made Virgil scared before? So many times. He had hurt him time after time and although Virgil knew he had deserved it, he had tried to be a good boy. Surely he hadn’t deserved it every time? 

Still, he didn’t want his dad to be hurt. He didn’t want anyone to be hurt. And he really didn’t want his new dad to be the one causing that pain, Virgil feeling some of that comfortable trust he had felt around the pretty fae crack a little. Why was his fae dad hurting his old dad? What was going on?

Shadows seemed to form into monsters around them, Virgil shrinking a little as he tried to avoid the gaze of things that didn’t have eyes but he could feel the weight of their stares nevertheless. 

All of a sudden the second fae was in front of him. Virgil hadn’t even seen him - them - move. One second they had been standing beside him, a hand resting on his shoulder and then in a blink of an eye they were crouched in front of him. Expression was no longer amused. It seemed to grow blurry in front of Virgil. Or else he was crying. 

“Don’t look,” Lo whispered. “Virgil, don’t look.” 

He found himself closing his eyes as once. It was worse in the dark. The noises were still there but without anything to connect them to, his brain couldn’t help but picture the worse. The shadow monsters grew teeth and fangs. They howled - he couldn’t hear howling, but his imagination did the work for him, changing them into wolves - and leapt for his old dad. They were gonna hurt his old dad. 

Lo wrapped their arms around him, a soft humming coming to his ears. It sounded a little awkward, a little off pitch. Almost as though Lo didn’t really know how to hum but was trying his best. It helped comfort Virgil because of that, the little boy clinging tightly back as best he could. 

He wanted to listen to the humming. He wanted to pretend that everything was going to be okay, that he had found a family. He wanted the pretend games once more. It wasn’t real - he knew it wasn’t real because he never got to enjoy anything good - but why was it so wrong to want to pretend just once or twice? 

Virgil kept his eyes screwed tightly closed, his face buried in the shoulder of the fae.

He only wished he could close his ears to the sounds of screams and things being ripped apart, something he could hear even over the hums. Or the smell of iron, so rich and vivid. 

_Present Day..._

Some part of him had always known that his parents wouldn't react well to his decision to see the human village. They were over protective to the point of stifling at times - they had bound another living being to him without a thought for what that would be like for Thomas. Virgil wouldn't have it any other way. Better protective than uncaring. Better to enjoy their love while he had it, just in case. He was human and finite. Which meant surely their love had to be finite. But wonderful while it lasted.

Despite that, he hadn't expected them to go to this extreme.

It was as though they had uprooted half the forest. Clever of them, to get around the issue of the circle. Fae could travel outside of their homes. But their powers were limited once they were away from the center of their power. In all their travels, Father was tied by those rules. They could never hurt humans - not unless anyone was foolish to give up a name to them.

Now though, it was as they had gone mad. Virgil couldn't even begin to imagine how much magic this must have taken. It would have been draining, dangerously so. To give mobility to so many trees, to convince them to move so far from the places they knew and to actively attack a human settlement - well, it would have been hard. So much effort, all for him?

Maybe their love wasn't finite after all. Maybe it was time to actually discover the truth.

They were long overdue that conversation. It was one Virgil had put off. Not just because he tended to dislike facing issues and would rather keep his head buried in the leaves, but because he was honestly afraid of what he might find out. No matter what they said, it would hurt. Even the best case scenario, when they reaffirmed their love for him and swore to never abandon him would hurt, because it would have to come with details about his human past. About a family they loved him or hated him, and what happened to them. There was no happy ending there. Worst case; no, he didn't want to think of the worst case, because he didn't believe it. Regardless, they would have to talk.

The bane of his existence.

Just as soon as he had calmed them down and got them home of course. Virgil didn't want anyone to get hurt because of him. Especially not his family. Or his Roman.

Blush returned full force as he followed Roman down the stairs of his house. Roman’s dad had vanished, presumably to prepare defenses and that was another reason why Virgil had to end this. The Chief might unsettle him but he was still Roman's dad and it would probably ruin everything if anything happened to the human.

Virgil didn't want to ruin things. This might be the end of his hopes and dreams when it came to Roman, but he could still make sure that till make sure it wasn’t the end of Roman himself. Virgil would have never imagined he would be in this situation. That he would be defending a human against his parents. It was surreal to think he was standing in a human made building, that he had reached the village at all. 

This wasn’t where he had ever imagined he would be. Virgil didn’t like it. The whole village was too loud, too bright. Too many sights and smells. There were people everywhere and not a single tree in sight. He couldn’t understand how Roman could stand it. Where could you hide? Where could you run free and wild? Metal was rich in the air around them, along with other traces of inductory. Fire roaring in so many buildings, contained but unwillingly so. Virgil knew he wasn’t far from the forest, that all he had to do was lift his eyes upwards and he would see the trees atop the hill and yet he elt so lost. As if he was afridt in a world that wasn’t his own.

All the other humans were little better. They seemed to follow so many invisible, unspoken rules. Just as the fae did, but Virgil had no idea how to read any of them.

The looks he had been given were frightening as well. Hungry looks, ones that made him want to hide in the safety of a tree. Except there were no trees, no branches to cradle and protect him. There was Roman however, the one good thing about this place. A light that seemed to glow all the brighter compared to the dull and filth of the world around him. Virgil couldn’t understand how someone so wonderful, so good could come from a place like this. How he could retain respect for the forest when Virgil had walked past a building where someone was chopping wood?

Not wood that had been gifted either. Virgil knew how to collect the branches which had been deposited on the ground. They were gifts from the trees themselves and Virgil treated them with the respect they deserved. He might craft with them, create something new out of them but he made sure to always thank the forest accordingly. 

The branches the humans were using were green. Young, fresh and taken by force. No wonder his parents mistrusted the humans so. That didn’t change the reality though, didn’t diminish Roman in anyway. He had to protect Roman. 

Still, it hurt to do the right thing. 

"I have to go," Virgil whispered, tugging on Roman's hand to pull them both to a stop. They were standing a few paces away from the door and the world beyond it. Outside, there would be chaos. Virgil wouldn’t get the chance to say any of the things in his heart once they passed that threshold. It had to be done here and now. 

"I know love, that's why we're going outside, we’re going to stop this,” Roman replied. So brave, so noble. And so oblivious to Virgil’s true meaning. It would be sweet if it was any other time or reason - now it just drew out the pain. He took in a deep, shuddering breath, Virgil trying to summon up the strength he needed in order to do this. If this what it would always be like now that he had a taste of the human world? 

To be forever torn between the two? 

Or rather, to be forever torn between Roman and his own world, because he was the only thing that tempted Virgil like that. Roman, who made him risk everything. Roman, who he hardly knew and yet his heart would whisper such strange, terrifying thoughts and feelings. Roman who accepted that it could be an understood thing. Roman who didn’t want to understand this. 

"No, you don't get it. I have to _leave_... I have to leave this village. I have to leave you.”

"Virgil..." Roman trailed off, expression stricken and this hurt more than Virgil could have thought possible. His love wore his heart on his sleeve and on his face. Expressions good or bad would wash over him like a gently babbling brook. Bad didn’t seem to do the emotion Roman was feeling justice right about now. His heart was breaking and it was all Virgil’s fault.

Yet more proof that this was doomed. More proof that he didn’t belong in this world, that he couldn’t have this new love that was being offered. Because all he had managed to do since coming to the village was embarrass himself, embarrass Roman. Make his father think Roman was a terrible person instead of the wonderful son he was. He had brought potential doom upon the humans and now was breaking Roman’s heart. It was as though he really was the evil fae some of the human books spoke of. Despite not being fae. Or evil.

That last one might be subjective. 

He was drawing this out. He let Roman pull him close, let the taller boy wrap his arms around him. They were in danger, and more importantly countless innocent people were in danger. There was no time to waste in such moments, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Not when he was so close he could smell the still fresh bed sheets that Roman had been lying in, mixed with a familiar, earthy scent under it that was all his love.

Roman smelt like _home_ and that hurt in a new and unexpected way. Everytime Virgil thought he had reached his capacity to feel or cause pain, something else would happen to prove just how wrong he was. And how very wrong he had been to even imagine this could work. Despite the pain he was causing, Virgil could also tell from the expression that Roman didn’t want this to end. He was willing to endure all this for the love they shared.

Perhaps Virgil would be willing to do the same if he was the only one paying the price, but he wasn’t. Not by a long shot. 

"Roman, my parents did this to find me! Who knows what else they might do. Or what your people might do in order to defend themselves? I was so stupid to think that this would work. That they wouldn’t notice or care, of course they care. I just never... I never thought they would do this Ro, I swear it. I can’t let this go on, you could get hurt...” Virgil trailed off, drawing in a great gulping breath of air. He tried his best to ignore the sound of his own wet breathing, of the tears he could feel burning on his cheeks. It still wasn’t enough and Virgil had to end this, once and for all. 

“I guess this is goodbye,” he finally choked out, taking one slow, painful step away from Roman and the warmth of his hold. They say the first step is always the hardest but the next one felt as though it would be just as painful to do the next one. Virgil didn’t want to go, he didn’t want this to end but everything came with a goodbye. 

As Virgil had feared, the second step was just as painful as the first. His whole body trembled and shook with the effort of putting some distance between them both. Only for Roman to surge forward and catch lightly at his sleeve, closing the gap and making his whole effort pointless. 

"But I love you,” Roman protested, as though it was that simple. As if that one fact solved everything. Oh, how Virgil wished it could be that simple, that just saying those words would be enough to make all the problems go away.

Virgil may have been raised by fae and live in a forest, but even he knew that the world wasn’t as easy as that. They couldn’t fix it with a few well meaning sentiments. Father would no doubt be horrified that Virgil was rejecting words to fix a problem, but then Father was currently using force to solve their problem so they couldn’t talk. 

There was something that words could still do however. If this was goodbye, then at the very last, Virgil could be brave. He could offer Roman the deepest and most precious secret left to him. Make it an understood thing no longer. It would hurt all the more to them both. But didn’t Roman deserve the truth? To actually hear it, to know without any doubt, any fae trickery? 

"I think I love you too. I know I do. Which is why I can’t let them hurt you or your people.”

His reward was smile as intoxicating as any full moon dance. It only lasted a moment, but it was a memory that Virgil knew he would treasure, even as it was replaced by a more serious expression.

"... At least let me talk to them, please," Roman pleaded and it wasn't fair that he looked so good like this. Virgil knew he had to look a state, tears smudging the charcoal around his eyes, the dark merely highlighting the already paleness of his skin. His hair was sticking up all over the place from where he had slept and then ran his fingers through it in agitation at what was happening. Roman, by contrast, still looked amazingly perfect. 

"If this is it, then let me try and fight for us. Let them meet me, maybe I can prove myself to them. Let me try?” Roman was still begging, was asking as though Virgil’s parents were normal and not over protective. As if they had never killed a human before and so wouldn’t kill him. 

"I want to protect you! Who knows how they would react once they realise it was because of you that I left?” Virgil needed to make him understand. He loved his parents, he loved them so much. But he wasn’t blind to what they were capable of. They would never physically hurt him, but such immunity wouldn’t extend to Roman, no matter what Virgil said or did. 

“Please,” Roman repeated. “Isn’t it better to try and fail than never to have tried and spend the rest of our lives wondering? I can’t just let you walk out of my life without at least attempting to prove how I feel to you and your parents. Don’t let it end like this. Virgil, I’m begging you.” 

Honestly, Virgil rather liked the idea of never trying. It sounded less painful than trying and failing. With having to live with the memory of the sound of Roman screaming or crying. Or the image of him bruised, broken... worse. The sensible thing was to just leave now, as he had planned. But how could he say no to Roman when he was so intent? So determined. 

“Okay. We... will try it your way. But let me try and talk to them first, okay,” Virgil told him. He reached out, fingers entwined with Roman’s own as they stepped outside and into the madness.

It didn’t take long for Virgil to spot where his parents had to be. A few feet from the broken down building was the thickest grove of trees. There were shadows within the woods. Most were normal ones, cast by branch or leaf. Some, however, made your eye want to slide past them. To skip over any details or thoughts about them, so that you wouldn’t realise that there was no reason for this darkness to exist. There was no corresponding item that owned the shadow. 

The fae were here. Virgil might not be able to make out any details, but he knew without any doubt that they were there. 

Most of the villagers were clustered in small groups between the building they had come out of and the last intact one. None seemed brave enough to approach the treeline. Good. That meant his parents couldn’t grab any of them in their zeal. Honestly, Virgil couldn’t work out how he felt about this whole thing.

Guilt, shame, fear. All the negative emotions that he could put a name to and probably more besides. But there were others as well. Some kind of sick satisfaction that they would do this just for him. People were scared and in danger, and there was part of Virgil that couldn’t help but feel glad - what did that say about him?

All the villagers gasped and shrunk away from Virgil as though he was a diseased thing. Some monster among them, intent on causing them harm. It was because of him, because he had come here, that the forest had come here. Because of him that they were in danger. Virgil couldn’t blame them for that reason. He could however, blame them for the looks they were also sending Roman’s way. Ones of anger, of hurt. Ones that clearly proved they blamed his sweet Roman for the attack. It wasn’t Roman’s fault. It was nobody’s fault but his own and his heart quickened with an angry beat to think that they might blame Roman for this. 

With great difficulty, he swallowed down those thoughts as they moved past the final group. Roman slipped past his dad with practised ease, avoiding the outstretched hand and plea for his son to stay back, to just end this already. Virgil couldn’t help but wish that Roman would listen to him. That they could follow the safer route. That he could lose him but save him.

That wasn’t his love though. That wasn’t the sort of person Roman was and Virgil couldn’t deny him his own existence. He couldn’t make Roman act against his heart. No matter the danger. A heart that wanted to fight for them both. Virgil wanted the same, he would give almost anything to keep Roman safe. 

“Son!” There was his dad, stepping out into the sunlight. Still staying close enough that he could no doubt tap into the power of the trees, but he was there at least. Virgil felt some of the worry slip from his shoulders at the simple sight of him. Dad always had that effect. Father was there too. They had even managed to get Uncle Sleep into this, and the casual pose wasn’t fooling Virgil. Uncle Sleep had to be hating every second of this, to be so close to so many humans.

As far as Virgil knew, it wasn’t anyone from this village that had managed to trick him into giving his name, but it still couldn’t be easy, to chose to walk among them again. Thomas was on the other side of his uncle, scowling in the direction of Roman. Virgil couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit of hurt at the sight of his friend. Thomas knew Roman. He knew that he wasn’t a threat. Why hadn’t he said as much?

It was still Virgil’s fault for sneaking away without a word to any of them. He hadn’t bothered to tell Thomas his plan. He hadn’t left a note or any hint and maybe if he had done that, Thomas could have had the chance to explain things clearly. 

“Don’t worry Star, we’re going to get you out of this. Who took you? Is this that Princey? I know you have to be so scared but I promise you, you won’t be held here much longer.” The words rushed over him, how filled with concern they were. How confusing they were. Held here? Scared? 

What? Did they... did his dad think... surely Thomas at least explained that Virgil would have chosen to go? That he had been weak and soft for Roman? They must know that he had feelings for the other human at least? 

"Dad, I wasn't kidnapped,” Virgil replied in bewilderment. It didn’t make any sense for them to think that, but a quick glance at the faces of the rest of his family told him they were all serious. Even Thomas. What was going on? What had he missed?

A large part of him wanted to run to his dad. To fling himself into his dad’s arms and hug him tight. Everything was so confusing. The human world was so loud, so bright, filled with far too many scents that made him feel ill. Dad would make everything better. That would mean letting go of Roman’s hand though and he was pretty sure the only thing stopping them from attacking Roman was the fact that Virgil was clinging to him with such determination.

“Then why did you come? You shouldn’t have been able to, you made a deal remember?” 

The world seemed to shake a little at those words. Virgil gripped Roman’s hand tighter as everything shifted around him, colours and sound bleeding together for a moment in a mass of confusion and shock. Dad was... right. Virgil had forgotten in the rush of the moment, that he had promised never to go to the village, but he still should have been stopped by the magic bond he had chosen to enter into. 

“I....I don't know why - I don’t know _how_ \- I did that. I never... what’s going on Dad?” Virgil couldn’t stop the note of fear that crept into his voice at that question and why had he never even questioned his choice before? Why hadn’t this occurred to him? 

“Did you give Princey your name?”

Dad looked unusually serious as he spoke. It made the fear grow, a churning, terrible sickness that Roman’s touch only partly cured. It couldn’t wipe away the chill that this was a conversation that might tell Virgil some things that he didn’t want to know. 

“Yes, but so what? Human to human remember?” 

If anything, Dad managed to look even more serious and sad. Virgil couldn’t help but swallow heavily, and every nerve in him screaming that this was bad. He wanted so badly to turn away from this force and let it hit someone else. Anyone else, so long as he didn’t hurt and what was coming, was bound to do that.

It was impossible though. The only way to change the course of this hurricane would be to let the humans suffer in his stead and Virgil - Virgil couldn’t do that. 

“Your name sweetheart,” Dad explained, his voice unbearably soft. “It's fae. It has the magic of fae, it has our glorious strength... and it has the weakness too. I hoped that it wouldn't but when your eyes started reflecting the magic inside of you, I knew. If you gave him your name, then you gave him... you. He is controlling you.” 

“It... is?” Virgil couldn’t wrap his head around what Dad was telling him. How could his name be fae, when he was human? The rest of it made a horrible kind of sense. There was the fact he had gone against everything he might want by agreeing to come to the village. The fact that it hadn’t even occurred to him that it might be wrong - but Roman wasn’t controlling him on purpose. There was no way his love had meant any of this. No way he could have known, no way he could have twisted it. Virgil simply refused to believe he was capable of it. 

Before he could even start to process that however, there was still the huge matter of his name apparently being magical in its own right. Why had they never told him? Fae never told the whole truth, it was a part of life. Still, Virgil couldn’t help but feel that this really was something they should have shared. Maybe not half way through a meal or just before bed, true. There were so many better ways they could have told him, than this moment. 

“How?” Virgil asked simply. 

“Your birth father... that mortal... he didn’t... I named you. I love you Star! Me! He didn’t give you a name, I did. He didn’t love you, he didn’t care! You’re my sweet son and I won’t leave you here to be hurt. I won’t!” Dad stumbled over his words a little, for once at a loss for words. There was clearly so much he wanted to say, and just as clearly, so much that he didn’t know how to. The trauma that came with knowing that his human parents had cared so little for him that they hadn’t even bothered to name him was something that Virgil was not dealing with right now. Not even going to think about it. 

Maybe he was thinking about it a little.

For years now - ever since he had been old enough to understand he was human but his parents weren’t - Virgil had thought about his original family. Countless ideas and theories had presented themselves in that time. Everything from them abandoning him, to Virgil running away. It hadn’t taken long for him to settle on the theory that they had left him. Followed by him then making a deal in order to stay alive. Virgil thought he had come to terms with the idea that those people didn’t love him. They were shadowy, inconsequential beings, people he didn’t remember or know.

Strange then, that knowing without any doubt that he was right should hurt so much. His human family really hadn’t loved him. It made him want to sob. To the side of him, Roman squeezed his hand gently, a soft, barely there motion. 

Roman. 

Who claimed to love him. Who, Virgil was pretty sure, actually did love him. He cared when he didn’t have to. Just like his parents. His real parents, his true parents. His fae parents. The sting of his human family abandoning him didn’t lessen at the thought of them, but it did become easier to deal with. He could weigh that pain against the joy of being chosen and somehow manage to cope. 

“I’m not... I’m not being hurt here. I didn’t know.. Princey, I didn’t know my name would...” Virgil trailed off, giving a frustrated huff. It seemed as though his dad wasn’t the only one who was struggling to put his thoughts into any sort of sense right now. Talking about this kind of hurt was better than talking about the hurt still swirling in his mind. In theory at least. It was still hard to push those thoughts aside and focus on the here and now. 

Over Dad’s shoulder, he could see his father. The taller fae wasn’t looking at him, but rather at Roman. Look was perhaps too gentle a word to describe the glare he was sending the other human. It made Virgil feel small and it wasn’t even being directed at him. 

“He isn’t holding me here,” Virgil added and they might not have spoken about it yet, but Virgil had to believe that Roman would let him go. That he wouldn’t use this new knowledge against him. 

“You’re coming home with us,” Dad replied with a watery sniff. “Where you belong, don’t worry. Has he ordered you to keep holding his hand?” 

The contact felt so natural that it was something of a surprise to realise that his parents saw it differently. Roman had never told him he had to hold his hand. Not with his name, or any variation thereof. It had simply felt like the right thing to do. More than just natural, it had given him courage, comfort. Knowing that Roman was beside him and willing to let him try and explain was just... Virgil couldn’t even begin to describe how it felt. To know that he was trusted like that. Loved like that.

Without thinking, Virgil tightened his grip. He wasn’t letting go. No matter how badly he wanted to cling to that idea of ‘belonging’. A fae name spoke of permanence. It spoke to something deeper than Virgil could actually explain. It was his greatest wish and deepest fear all bundled up into one messy thought. 

“I thought you were going to leave me when I grew up? I’m human Dad. I thought you’d want me to end up somewhere like this one day?” Virgil couldn’t help but ask and it had to be now. When he actually had the strength to find out. 

“You’re our _son_!” Dad looked horrified, as though his words were obvious and he couldn’t understand any other thought. Well, maybe it was obvious to him. Maybe it was obvious to Virgil, but he did have trust issues. A little bit of clarity never hurt.

It hurt now. To realise that all his self doubt and worry had been pointless. To know that he had done nothing but cause himself pain. And now, cause them pain because he had just proved that he was a terrible son. Virgil had worried himself near sick at the idea that they would expect him to leave one day. When it seemed as though it would be anything but. 

"You always will be, Star. The magic that has grown inside of you is a bonus, but we knew from the first night when you were purely human, that we would love you forever. When you’re old enough, we will all go home. Together. Forever. We aren’t abandoning you. Let go of him, so we can save you again okay?” Dad took a slow step forward. His posture reminded Virgil of the time they had found a wounded animal. Dad had comforted it. Had stayed with it. All the way to the end.

Who was the animal in this case? Virgil? Or Roman. Because the whole point of this hadn’t gone away. The problem hadn’t vanished. The forest was still here and he was still torn in two different directions. Virgil looked beside him, at Roman. He was still holding his hand and Virgil had realised he never wanted to stop. He wanted both, as impossible as it felt. 

“But... I don’t want to abandon him either.” 

_Six Months Previously..._

The forest never ran out of things to keep him entertained. There was always something new to see. A shift in the landscape, a friendly fox showing off her new cubs. The shifting seasons brought new colours and smells. Just as importantly however, there was plenty of old things too. Virgil liked the comfort that came with familiarity. He liked to visit the same spots time and time again. It was fun to greet the same tree and stream, to pass over comfortable paths and know exactly what he would find at the other end.

Right now, however, he was moving through less well known territory, heading towards the edge of the forest. Virgil had no intention of actually going to the boundary, but he knew there were some trees near his dad’s circle that Thomas could talk to, trees that would be able to pass on the news that the birds brought from the human areas. It would also give Thomas a chance to talk to some of his own kind. 

His father had been gone for weeks and Virgil was starting to become a little restless. They did that sometimes. He wasn’t sure if it was for business - and if it was, then he really didn’t want to know the details. All he knew was that it had felt like forever. Dad missed them. Virgil missed them too, he wanted them to come back so they could share a family meal together, so his father could recite some poetry and weave his stories long into the night.

Not to mention, his father promised to bring him back some new books from their travels. 

They said that but Virgil understood what it really meant. Father would bring back books fully intending to let Virgil read them first, but then they would get tempted. Like a lot of fae, father was no good at resisting temptation. They would have spent hours in the various book stalls, leafing through countless tomes. Finding ones that they thought would appeal to Virgil yes, but ones that caught their eye for themselves would also sneak in.

Virgil didn’t mind it so much. It was cute, that father actually had a hobby. That they were interested in the human world to such an extent that they would go out exploring it. And there were so many wonderful books out there. Filled with stories and facts that made his head spin. The last time father had gone out exploring, they had returned with a book filled with all sorts of exoit flowers that bloomed in distant lands. It spoke of sand as far as the eye could see. With a river winding through the very center of the desert, fertile black soil on either side. The book claimed that things grew in that soil larger and faster than anywhere else in the world. 

It would be an amazing place to visit and see for himself. To marvel at the strange objects that dotted the landscape and see some of the weird and wonderful things up close. To be part of a world instead of simply tracing his fingers over faded black lettering. The books were old, ones that had apparently been lost and found many times over. It just proved to Virgil that the human world while interesting, wasn’t to be trusted. 

How could they learn such things and then forget it? How could they move forward and then fall back? The books spoke of water that stretched in equal distance to the sand, of far off lands which were always night and filled with beasts that Virgil never wanted to meet. It was good to read about them though, to let himself be lulled to sleep by their stories. The last new book had been finished weeks ago and Virgil had returned to his favorite yet again. Rereading the same stories and still enjoying them, but at the same time excited for something new. 

He was looking forward to seeing what treasures they brought back this time. Not enough to actually go and look for them - even without the promise he had made a few months ago, Virgil would have chosen to stay within the shadow of the trees. 

Father would return when it was time. 

Until then, there was always the forest to distract him, Virgil gracefully leaping over some roots that had burst free from the ground. He knew his father would come back when they were ready. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just see if anyone had any news, if anyone had seen them approaching. Just in case. Virgil was really starting to miss his father. 

A little way behind him, Thomas was following, as always. He opened his mouth to speak before freezing mid step. Head tilted to the side, listening intently. Dimly, Virgil was aware of Thomas bumping into his back, the tree spirit apparently as caught off guard as Virgil had been. He didn’t react though, too focused on the strange sounds he could hear drifting through the air towards him. 

Someone was singing near his dad’s circle. 

It didn’t sound like anyone he knew. And Virgil knew everyone in the forest. Newcomers were rare but mostly dangerous. If he was lucky, it would be someone like Uncle Sleep, and they would turn out okay. If he was unlucky - and honestly, Virgil tended to be that more often than not - then it would be someone he would have to call his dad to deal with. He should turn and head in the opposite direction. Or shout for his dad right now, get him to come before he took a single step closer. 

Curiosity killed the cat and all... but he couldn’t help it. 

This was something new. What if it _was_ dangerous? 

His dad was only ever a call away, and as always, Thomas was on hand. Anything dangerous could be contained. It wasn’t courage or recklessness that made him press on to investigate. Rather, it was the opposite. Whatever was out there, it was better that it was faced now before it became a real threat. It was better to be able to give his dad some information so they could deal with the threat together.

Logically, he knew he was making excuses for why he wasn’t calling for help. He was trying to think up some truth that wasn’t born out of a petty desire to prove his dad wrong. Virgil had to prove to his dad that he didn’t need their help all the time. That he was capable of doing something grown up without their supervision. Thomas was still there, and he was a glorified babysitter true, but it was still better than having to go running to dad just because he had heard a stranger’s voice in the forest. 

“Vee? What are you doing?” Thomas’ voice was cautious, the spirit trailing after him as he started to move once more. 

“Shush,” Virgil whispered, still heading towards the sound. “I’m just going to sneak a peek okay.” 

“You really shouldn’t. We should call your dad just to be on the safe side. What if it's another fae? One that has a grudge against humans?” 

“We can call him if it’s something like that. And you can get us away long enough for him to show up. Come on Thomas, it’s just a look, from a very, very safe distance.” 

He might be curious, but he wasn’t stupid. Virgil wasn’t about to get near to whatever was making that noise. It was easy enough to follow the sounds. Whoever was singing wasn’t bothering to try and disguise their location. They were clearly having far too much fun to even worry about attracting the wrong sort of attention. 

Virgil couldn’t help but feel confusion and dread mingling together at that thought. If they weren’t afraid, did that mean they were powerful? The sort of powerful that could swat anything aside like a bug? The kind that could certainly swat aside a human being without a second thought, tree spirt or no tree spirit. Worse, what if whoever it was tried to do that, Thomas then tried to protect him only to get hurt - because it was his job, and Virgil hoped, because they were friends. That was a worry for another time. 

Maybe he should have called for his dad. It wasn’t too late. Virgil had freakishly good hearing and so they were still a little way away from whoever it was. He could set off a signal without making a physical sound. Just as he had done the very first time he had met Uncle sleep. 

No.

No, he could do this. He was pretty much grown up now. He knew all the tricks, he knew what not to say, he knew how to be polite and not get himself killed. If he couldn’t handle even seeing who was singing in what was partly his forest, then how would he ever be able to prove to his dad that he didn’t need a babysitter anymore?

Thomas was trapped here until the job was done. Virgil had never really understood if that meant until they were sure Virgil was capable of protecting himself or until he died. He hoped it wasn’t the latter but finding out would require actually talking to his parents about the future. That was one of the main things that Virgil never wanted to talk to them about. 

The possible answers were far too scary.

So onwards to the voice it was then. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart. It was racing and they hadn’t even seen whoever it was yet. Everything was going to be - well, probably not okay. Virgil was too much of a pessimist for okay.

But not terrible?

Not terrible was something he could work with. He had the rough decade and a half of experience living with his parents. He had Thomas to protect him. Virgil pushed down the ever present guilt that liked to remind him of its existence whenever he thought about Thomas and his role. Trying to deny that at least distracted him from other fears and before he knew it, he was only a few trees away from the small clearing that housed his dad’s circle. 

Slowly, he inched forward, pressing himself against a nearby tree for cover. Nothing happened, there was no shout of danger, no pop of air as a creature of magic shifted. The singing continued without pause. Whoever it was honestly didn’t seem to know he was there. That thought gave Virgil the courage to shift a little, just enough to look past the trunk and into the clearing.

Before promptly ducking back down, his hands pressed over his mouth to stop the startled gasp that threatened to escape.

It wasn’t a fae. Or a spirit or even an animal. It was something much worse than any of that. 

A human?!

In the forest?

They were meant to be scared of the forest! They were supposed to stay away. Dad said he had left very clear signs that humans were no longer welcome in the forest and so it was safe for Virgil. And yet just a few feet away there stood a human, singing his little heart out.

This was probably the time he was supposed to call for his dad. He didn’t. Virgil wasn’t really sure why. He had looked, he had found the source of the noise and it was a danger. This was the point he was supposed to call, and let dad send the human back to where he belonged.

The singing was very pretty though. It was a rich voice, one that was able to hit the notes nearly perfectly, to bring them to life in a way that Virgil could only envy. His voice was far too low and rough to make any sound like that. It was beautiful and how could something so beautiful come from a human if the human was bad? Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to just take another look. Just to try and gather more information for his dad.

Virgil peered around the trunk again, his heart still racing. It was a wonder that the human didn’t hear his heart, it was beating that loudly. Then again, humans didn’t have the sort of hearing that fae did. Perhaps instead, it was a wonder that his dad didn’t hear his heart. He knew Thomas could hear it, he could sense the worried look the spirit was giving him as he crouched behind another tree, watching Virgil watch the human. 

He had never seen another human in the flesh before.

Sure, he had seen people in human gise. His parents, Uncle Sleep, Thomas. Other fae and creatures that had flitted in and out of his life wore human masks and quite often pretended to be human. 

There had always been something about them that set them apart though. A disconnect between himself and them that made Virgil know instantly that they weren’t actually human, no matter how well they tried to hide the fact. It was the same here. He knew, all the way down to his soul, that this boy was human. 

This silly, foolish mortal who was standing next to a fairy circle, his arms lifted high in the air. As if he was anywhere else, as if he wasn’t five or so paces away from stumbling into another world. He was almost serenading the forest itself and Virgil couldn’t shake the feeling that this human actually respected the trees. 

He was also enchanting. It wasn’t just his voice - although that was certainly captivating all by itself. It was his looks as well. It was the way he moved, almost dancing with himself. His hair shone in the pale spring light, almost glowing like brightly spun gold. It was the first thing that caught his attention. The way his hands moved was the next thing, sunkissed fingers weaving countless patterns in the air, dancing and dipping in and out of each other. 

Virgil felt as though he could stand here and watch the boy, listen to him sing for the rest of his life. 

“Vee, we have to go, _now_ ,” Thomas hissed, tugging on his arm, trying to pull him away and deeper into the forest. Virgil barely noticed the pressure on his arm, too caught up in the moment. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to know more about this human. 

“Vee, your dad is coming, do you want them to find him here? You know he will take it the wrong way, he will overreact. He’s lovely but he will.” Those words caught Virgil attention, his eyes snapping away from the boy to look at his friend.

“You called him?” Virgil couldn’t help the hurt in his voice. It was one thing to say they would if it turned out to be dangerous, it was quite another to actually do it when the human hadn’t done anything. Thomas shook his head, red eyes shining brightly. 

“I didn’t, I swear. But I can feel him coming. So can you if you focus,” Thomas pleaded, giving Virgil’s arm another tug. Virgil believed Thomas. It was just the sort of bad luck that he tended to have. Now that he focused as Thomas suggested, he could feel that familiar little pull that let him know his dad was getting closer. Normally that was a source of comfort for Virgil, knowing he was safe and everything was going to be okay. 

Now, all he could think about was how terrible it would be if his dad saw this human. Thomas was right, he had to be somewhere else by the time dad got here. 

Reluctantly, he allowed Thomas to pull him away, casting one last longing look at the foolish mortal. The boy had stopped singing now. He was facing Virgil’s direction, still oblivious to his presence. Eyes were angled slightly above him, staring up towards the canopy of the trees. Virgil had a pretty good idea of what he was looking at. 

There was a birds nest up there. Virgil hadn’t come to visit it himself yet, but some of the birds had told Thomas - and through Thomas, him - about the baby birds there. A faint, almost awed smile was on the boy’s face as he looked up at it, as though it was something wonderful. The boy seemed wonderful too. 

Virgil felt his heart skip a beat as he stared at him one last time, drinking in the sight of this mysterious mortal. It didn’t feel like a fearful heartbeat - he had felt enough of those to recognize them. He wasn’t sure what it was.

A shame that he would never see this boy again in order to find out. 

_Present Day..._

“Enough of this foolish waste of time!” The other fae spoke at last. Roman shifted his gaze from Virgil to meet the eyes of the one that he had been doing his best to ignore until now. He had felt those eyes burning into him like the coldest frost of any morning. Pretending he didn’t, hadn’t changed that sensation. Actually looking at them wasn’t any better. 

“Father, don’t.” Virgil finally let go of his hand, lifting his own in what was apparently a calming gesture of his own. Roman felt cold without the contact. He swallowed down the urge to try and grab the hand again. No doubt they would see that as an attack, or at least an excuse. 

“Remove the human, remove the problem. Everything else can be sorted out later.” Hand rose in a sharp motion as they snarled out the words, dark blue smoke trailing in its wake. That... probably wasn’t good. 

“Father, don’t!” Virgil almost screamed the word, and yeah, that really wasn’t a good sign. 

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. 

The hand lowered, fingers flexed and spread out. Bolts of blue smoke shot out towards him. Roman didn’t know what they were or what they did, but the intent was obvious enough. It was one of pain. Of rage. Of love, but twisted into some violent thing. Whatever it was, Roman didn’t want that blue to touch him. A little way in front of him he could see Virgil start to move. To try and cut the attack off before it could reach its target. 

To his horror, Roman realised that Virgil was going to be fast enough. He was going to get between them both, he was going to take the hit that was meant for him. 

“Virgil stop!” Roman cried out without thinking, moving a fraction of a second after his love did. No matter what happened to him, he couldn’t let Virgil get hurt. He couldn't allow him to protect him like that, even if it meant taking his choices away. Roman loved Virgil, and if that meant only one of them got to survive this intact, then he was going to make sure it was his purple eyed love. Just like the tall fae said - remove Roman and in the end, the problem would be gone. 

He could see Virgil jerk to a stop, held in place by the power of his name. Roman wanted to apologise, he wanted to say sorry so badly. This wasn’t how he wanted his potential last words to Virgil to go - but there was no time.

Not with the smoke hissing harmlessly past Virgil. They shot straight towards him. Blue hit black, sparkles cutting across in front of him, unexpectedly dissipating the attack. There was a gasp - either his own or Virgil’s, right now Roman couldn’t tell. Then there was silence. 

His vision went spotty for a moment as the world shifted into grey. 

Everywhere Roman looked, he could see mists. A heavy fog that had blanketed it self around him. There was no sign of his village. Not a building or a person in sight. There wasn’t even any hint of Virgil, and he knew that the other boy was nearby. Roman took a couple of slow and uncertain steps towards his last location, hands lifted outward to try and feel. 

Fingers swept through the greyness, and nothing else. It was as though he was suddenly alone in a snowstorm. If snowstorms were warm and lacked any actual snowfall of course. Roman pulled his hands back, wrapping his arms around his torso as he considered what to do next. What could he do next? 

Shapes gradually began to unfold themselves from the grey as if in answer to his silent thought. 

As brave as Roman liked to consider himself, there were still limits. The four people he count see in front of him were enough to quell the hearts of far stronger, braver people than him. Out of everyone that had been in the village, why did it have to be those four people he was facing now? Roman didn’t even know why he was surprised. 

He was surrounded by fae. 

And the one that had only just tried to attack him was still staring at him with that cold rage. As well as advancing rapidly towards him. At least Virgil wasn’t here. It was both a good and a bad thing. Good because that meant that hopefully Virgil wouldn’t see what was about to happen. Bad because that meant their last interaction was still Roman accidentally betraying him.

“Berry.” The final fae spoke. Roman had no idea who he was - the parents he got, Virgil’s scary friend, he got - but whoever it was, they had the power to make Virgil’s father turn and listen. To actually stop in their rampage. Admittedly, they still looked angry, but Roman was grasping onto any hint of positivity right now.

“Not now Sleep! Let us out of this mist of yours, Vee is now alone with a village full of humans! Is that what you want?” 

“Yes, now. How about you put that big brain of yours to work? Think about what just happened.” 

If Roman didn’t know better, he would have thought that this Sleep was actually on his side. That he wanted to help him. The look of complete destain the fae sent his way quickly dispersed Roman of that theory. Okay, so not his side. But also not necessarily on the ‘murder Roman’ side either, and that was still better than nothing. 

With a heavy sigh, Berry lifted a hand to their head, fingers massaging their temple. There was a short, pregnant pause, Roman glancing from one to the other as he waited to see who would speak first. 

“You... prevented my son from trying to save you... even at the imagined price of your own health, your own life. Why? Did you hope to gain clemency by protecting him? All it did was prove your total control over him.” Berry snapped the questions one after another, fast enough to make Roman’s head spin. 

“Not to mention betray his name to your village.”

His name. His... _name_. Oh. Roman had done that, hadn’t he. He had screamed it out loud without a thought for who might hear it. No wonder they were mad at him. No wonder they doubted his intentions. The fae was still glaring, waiting for an answer. 

“I love him,” Roman replied in the end. 

What else could he say? There were plenty of fancy declarations of love he could make. Roman could drop down onto one knee and recite poetry. He could sing at the top of his lungs, just as he had done to court his love in the first place. There was a ring in his house that had once belonged to his mother. A ring that would suit Virgil down to the ground. Virgil wasn’t here to hear any of it though. More to the point, he knew that Virgil wouldn’t like him to do it. Not so over the top. And not in front of people.

Making Virgil feel comfortable and happy was by far the most important thing to Roman. Even more than proving it to save his own life. 

Berry threw their head back, emitting a barking like sound as they did. It took Roman a couple of seconds to realise that it was something that was meant to be laughter. 

“Humans do not know what love truly is,” they sneered. Roman narrowed his eyes at that. He might not have done a battle of wits with a fae before, but even he could see the huge mistake that had been made. 

“Virgil knows.” 

“Enough. I grow tired of this.” Berry didn’t seem keen on continuing the conversation. No doubt because they didn’t like what Roman was saying. He could feel himself bristle with annoyance at the way they attempted to dismiss him. Just because he was a human, didn’t make him bad. It didn’t mean he wanted to hurt or steal their son. Even if he had unknowingly done just that. He still deserved the chance, because all Roman wanted to do was make Virgil happy. 

“Short life likes him,” Sleep pointed out, and thank god someone was willing to take up the argument too. 

“My son will get over that fact soon enough.” 

“Will he? Would you love?” Virgil’s other parent had remained strangely silent throughout the previous conversation. As quiet as the red eyed boy. But whereas Virgil’s friend had seemed to remain silent because he didn’t want to speak, his dad had quite often appeared on the brink of butting into the conversation. More than once, he had pressed his hands over his mouth to keep quiet. Now, he finally spoke, and his words seemed to make Berry physically flinch. 

“It’s... it’s different Sunshine!” Berry protested at last. The dad - Sunshine? - shook his head sadly. 

“I’m not so sure it is...”

There was something going on here. Something that Roman was missing. Tiny little blinks and flickers in eyes, the way the two stared at each other. A fight fought at super speed, too silent for anyone to hear. A huff, a tensing of shoulders, followed by the corresponding relaxing of muscles and Berry turned away, breaking the connection with the other parent. 

“Give me your name thief,” Berry commanded and this was it wasn’t it. If he gave up his name, then everything would be over. Everything Roman had ever wanted and fought for would be lost in a single second. If he didn’t give his name, then everything would still end in a different way. Nobody else spoke, nobody tried to distract Berry any further. 

Maybe this had been their plan all along. Draw him in deeper, exhaust his arguments and then let Berry do what fae did best. Still. He could go down fighting. With his head held high till the very end. 

“For a deal.”

“Princey...” Virgil’s whisper seemed to wrap around his mind, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Roman. Was it a warning or a promise? Would Virgil want him to do this? Forget that last one, of course Virgil wouldn’t want him to do this. But he had to. There was always the slim hope that things might not end as terribly as they probably would. Regardless, this was something he had to do.

Roman closed his eyes for a moment, summoning up whatever courage was left to him. 

"A deal? What, you hope to trade my son's freedom for your miserable little life?" Berry still looked suspicious, which wasn't that surprising. Wrong, but not surprising.

“No, I release him right now. I wouldn't trade him, he is his own person with his own wishes and choices. That isn't the deal. Virgil is free of my control, I didn't mean to take him."

"Then what is your deal?"

"Leave my village untouched, I made a mistake, I didn’t know I was doing it, but I made it. Let them go... and let me say goodbye to Virgil... and I’ll give you my name. I’ll give you myself, whatever you want. Just. Let me fix what I broke?” Roman could feel the despreration bubble and spill out into his voice, betraying him. This wasn’t a well thought out deal. There didn’t seem to be any wiggle room, but it was all he could thing to do. Himself for everyone else. 

Virgil’s father reached out. Long, pale fingers extended in a gesture that invited Roman to take it over an attack movement. It was equally as dangerous however. And equally as impossible to ignore. He stretched his arm out to grasp the offered hand, shaking it firmly. 

\---

Roman woke with a start.

He was lying in his bed, blankets piled on top of him. For a moment, all he could do was lie there in the warmth, blinking slowly. This wasn’t where he had expected to wake up. Really, he hadn’t expected to wake up at all. And yet this was his bed. This was his room. 

Faint sounds of chatter drifted in from the open window, the noise finally forcing Roman upright. Blankets were haphazardly tossed aside as he staggered upright and made his way over to where the noise was coming from. The gasp that slipped from his lips was impossible to contain as he stared out. 

The village looked whole and untouched. All the trees had retreated back to their natural habitats. There didn’t seem to be any destruction at all. Even the barn that had been half ripped apart was standing proud and intact once more. Roman blinked. And blinked again. He lifted his hands to his eyes, rubbing at them as though that might help him make sense of this. Everything remained intact. Which was amazing, which was good. Which made no sense whatsoever. 

Those feelings of confusion followed him as Roman turned from the window and went through the paces of his morning routine. Everything was ordinary. Was expected. There were no hints of anything that might tell him what had happened after he had been pulled into that strange between world. Going downstairs and running into his dad only made his confusion worse. His dad didn’t say a word about the events of yesterday. Or about Virgil at all. In fact, once he left the house and wandered the village, he found that it was the same for them as well. 

Nobody mentioned the attack. Which was... beyond strange. It should have been the main topic of conversation. People loved to gossip and his own village was certainly no exception to that rule. They didn’t even seem to be whispering behind his back. No odd stares, no hushed conversations or anything that would normally set his gossip senses off. They hadn’t been shy in acting weird when Virgil had actually been with him. There had been no shame in making his love feel uncomfortable so why would they show restraint now?

Either they were all playing the greatest practical joke on Roman or else the whole thing had never happened as far as they knew. It was as though yesterday's events - assuming it had only been yesterday - had been wiped clean from the world. 

Or else it had never happened and the whole thing had been a dream.

Did that mean everything had been a dream? The woods, the dancing, the singing. Virgil? Had Virgil been a dream? Or had what happened last night been the dream? Maybe if he went to the circle, Virgil would be waiting for him. Expect he wouldn’t be Virgil because that would mean his love hadn’t shared his name. What if he went back to the circle and there was nothing? If he never saw Virgil again because it had all been in his head?

Roman lifted a hand to his chest, fingers pressed lightly over his heart. It was beating rapidly away, tapping out a tune that he couldn’t deny. No. His feelings were real. The love he felt for Virgil was real, and the name was real. Roman refused to believe what had happened had only been in his head. Imagination was a wonderful thing, and Roman certainly had lots of it. But there was no way he could have imagined everything that had happened. 

Which meant that he really had made a deal with a fae. 

For the briefest second, a shiver of fear ran through Roman. These fae were impossibly powerful. They had risen a whole forest up against them. And then they had not only managed to then return all the trees back to their rightful places, they had also repaired all the damage. Then, to top it off, they had somehow managed to remove the memory of it all from everyone. Everyone but Roman himself. 

That was the deal though. Make his village whole again. Was his name really worth the energy it would take to do that? And if so, why was he still here? Why hadn’t they dragged him off? Why hadn’t they given him his goodbye with Virgil?

It was tempting to just remain in the village and ignore all of those thoughts. That wasn’t Roman’s way though. Facing things head on had always served him well in the past. So, opposite of ignoring it. 

There was no time like the present to face it.

Decision was made in a snap, Roman turning sharply on his heel as he made his way towards the exit of the village. Walking at first before his speed started to pick up until he was all but sprinting. Roman ignored his father’s voice yelling after him or the sounds of footsteps chasing. People’s shouts and stares were equally ignored as he raced out of the village and up the winding path towards the forest. They wouldn’t follow him all the way up to the circle. Not once they worked out that was where he was going.

He wasn't really sure what he expected when he burst into the clearing. The fae to be waiting for him? For the trees to still be angry? Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this stillness. As though the blanket of magic had spread itself over the forest as well.

“Mr. Fae! Mr. Fae!” Roman shouted. Maybe he should step into the circle? Roman didn’t really want to do that. Which was stupid. They already had his name so really what else could they take from him? “Mr. Fae please come out!” 

“Berry only uses mascline pronouns for the title ‘Father’. They aren’t a ‘Mr.” 

The voice came from behind, Roman spinning somewhat ungracefully. The red eyed boy was standing there, with a hint of a smirk on his lips. He appeared completely at ease and that only annoyed Roman further. This was no time to be calm!

“Ok, fine,” Roman snapped, waving a hand dismissively. He knew Virgil’s father used They/Them but it had slipped his mind It wasn’t an excuse and at any other time he would have been mortified but the life and death situation he was in weighed more heavily on his mind. "I'm sorry."

“Call me T," the boy added.

A name at last. Sort of. A letter was still better than ‘scary red eyed friend of Virgil’s’. It took a lot less time to say in his head. Again though, it wasn't what Roman wanted and why were they even talking about any of this stuff. In fact, why were they talking at all?

“Why am I still here?” Roman demanded after a beat, his arms crossed over his chest as if he could protect his heart. This was torture. A cruel and unusual punishment, waiting for the blow to land. He couldn't prepared himself in this state.

“You want to be fae bait?” T asked, each word spoken slowly and deliberately. Carefully weighing up the value of each letter. That was all very well and good when you were... whatever T was. Roman was only a human. With all his flaws and feelings. There was no hesitation, no deep thinking, just an instinctive reaction

“I want to live up to my end of the deal!" 

“Your village is safe," T pointed out. He moved closer, steps slow and steady until he was so close that Roman could lift a hand and be able to touch his side. It was impossible to look away, those red eyes pinned him in place. Until the world was nothing but that gaze and the words ringing around his head.

"Why not quit while you are ahead? Berry has not taken you yet, and you got everything back to normal. Why are you really here? Think carefully and answer truthfully Roman. A lot may rest on it."

"Because I know they will come for me one day, no matter what. That's not the main reason though..." Roman trailed off, swallowing heavily. Words felt heavy on his tongue. Or maybe it was his tongue itself that was dull and unresponsive. He didn't even notice the use of his name. The world was still the question posed and nothing else.

"Oh? And what is the proper reason then?"

"Because... because I made a deal. Because it would be... _wrong_ to try and avoid the consequences. And because I want to see Vir-Vee again, even if it is for the last time."

T blinked. With the motion came a rush of colour and sound, the world slamming back into Roman. He felt weak, legs wobbly. As though he had run for miles without pause instead of the scramble to the circle. Belatedly, the use of his name was noted. Not just the use, but the way in which his body and mind had responded. Roman hadn’t even realised there had been another will pressing against him until after the fact. Was that what it was going to feel like everytime? Was that how Virgil had felt? Had he realised after and been scared? Yet another reason why Roman had to speak to him. 

“Please... let me see him, let the deal stand. I never got to apologise for what I did. I never got to say goodbye...” Roman took a shaky gasp of air, forcing down the sob that wanted to slip free and he wasn’t going to cry. Not here. The world got a little blurry around the edges before he was able to blink the wetness away but thankfully T didn’t comment on it. 

“Come on. They will be waking up soon. Vee has been sulking all night, and I want him to get some sleep.” T spoke the words as though they made perfect sense and were a continuation of their conversation. In a way, Roman supposed they were, but he was too busy staring at T to really think that. With a skip, the boy slipped past him and headed towards the tree line, calling over his shoulder as he went;

“Well? Are you coming or not?”

Roman started to move, blood pumping back into cold limbs. This was it. He was getting his wish. He was going to see Virgil again. Even if it was the last time, at least he got this. Just as he wanted. The price was worth it. Roman had to keep holding onto that thought as he skirted around the fae’s circle. T lifted his left arm, stopping him midstep and what now? Surely, he wasn’t going to pull the rug out from under his feet again. 

"Just... don’t say goodbye. Not that word," he warned, expression serious once more.

“What? Why?” 

"The deal only comes into effect if you say goodbye. So use other words instead. Any other words, but that one. The deal is in the details," T explained. It made his head spin. The rug had been pulled but not in the way that Roman had expected.

"Wait... does this mean..." Roman couldn’t help the smile that started to curl onto his lips as he breathed out those words. Hope burned brightly within his chest once more.

"Don’t push it Princey,” T warned him. The hint of a smirk - no, it was a smile, there was nothing mocking about it - was back on his face though. Proof that his feelings didn’t truly match his words. "I was given a one time use of your name, which proves that Berry owns you but... yes. They are willing to let you try and prove yourself. For Vee's sake."

“Thank you. With all my heart.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You’ve still got to prove yourself to his parents. You’re not the enemy who kidnapped their baby anymore, you’re a human that wants to woo their son. In a way, that’s way more scary to them.” He wasn’t even bothering to try and hide his smile at this point, but neither was Roman. He felt almost dizzy with joy and Roman had survived angry fae. How much harder could parents be?

The forest was probably beautiful. Virgil had always talked about the wonders of his home but Roman saw none of it. He was too busy trying to work out what he was going to stay and do. There was no way to tell how long they had been talking before yet another clearing opened up in front of them. Just as with the forest, Roman barely noticed the fae that had to be standing there. His attention was for one person and one person only. 

“Vee!” 

Virgil’s startled expression turned into one of delight, his purple haired love flinging himself towards him, arms outstretched. Roman pulled the shorter boy into his arms and closed his eyes as Virgil hugged him back. All the tension that had been building up in him since this whole nightmare faded in the warmth of the embrace. The worry, the planning, the reality that still had to be faced. None of it mattered in this moment. 

He was home.

_~fin~_


End file.
